THE little southern city, full of light, Full of warm light, and coloured like a peach; The river winnowing either chalky beach With eddying streams from some vine-haunted height; Those pillar'd windows hung with kerchiefs bright, That rosy bell-tower with its mellow speech In liquid bells that murmured each to each, Those fleecy, full acacias, robed in white! Ah! most those warm acacias! like a tune Their odour fell and rose and died away All through that noiseless dreamy afternoon; Beside the quay you sat and sketched; I lay To watch the trembling breezes lift and sway The boughs through which there climbed a shadowy moon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LOON ON FORRESTER'S POND by HAYDEN CARRUTH MIDSUMMER BIRDS by ROBERT FROST TELL'S BIRTHPLACE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE QUATRAIN: FATE by RALPH WALDO EMERSON LOREINE: A HORSE by ARTHUR DAVISON FICKE WHEN HE WOULD HAVE HIS VERSES READ by ROBERT HERRICK THE WHITE SHIPS AND THE RED by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER |