The lights are out; My toil-worn little house Sits quietly, with folded hands, Holding tomorrow's tasks On her quiescent lap. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREENWOOD CEMETERY by CRAMMOND KENNEDY TO THE DEAD FAVOURITE OF LIU CH'E by DJUNA BARNES GIACINTA by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT LULLABY by VIRGINIA FRAZER BOYLE TAKE YOUR CHOICE: AS EDGAR LEE MASTERS WOULD HANDLE IT. HILDA HYDE by BERTON BRALEY |