The Bad Lands raise their lovely shoulders In mounds of mystery; Bare labyrinths of chalk-clay boulders, Devoid of greenery. The blue and primrose, violet blended, With cinnamon and gold, Of crocus colored hills upended, Deep fold on purple fold, Were marvelously wrought and fashioned When life was crude and young, In pageants of art, impassioned, As harmonies unsung. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE NEW CHURCH ORGAN by WILLIAM MCKENDREE CARLETON VOLPONE: TO CELIA by GAIUS VALERIUS CATULLUS THE BUILDING OF THE SHIP by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONG OF A SECOND APRIL by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY SOMETIME by MAY LOUISE RILEY SMITH |