The hill fronts my garden, With patronizing calm, Spreading stiff skirts about her And looking down On my transient flowers With the inbred contempt of old blood For the less old. Yet I know that the hill Would never be so lofty nor secure, Nor altogether respectably established, If something very sudden Had not happened In her own family. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEEP IN THE QUIET WOOD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE VOICE OF THE GRASS by SARAH ROBERTS BOYLE ELEGY: 9. THE AUTUMNAL [BEAUTY] by JOHN DONNE CARRION COMFORT by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE OLD FAMILIAR FACES by CHARLES LAMB THE HERONS OF ELMWOOD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND DEATH OF DOCTOR FAUSTUS by CHRISTOPHER MARLOWE |