IT was the House of Quietness To which I came at dusk; The garth was lit with roses And heavy with their musk. The tremulous tall poplar trees Stood whispering around, The gentle flicker of their plumes More quiet than no sound. And as I wondered at the door What magic might be there, The Lady of Sweet Silences Came softly down the stair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REVIEW by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON HERO-WORSHIP; SONNET by AMY LOWELL A LETTER ON THE USE OF MACHINE GUNS AT WEDDINGS by KENNETH PATCHEN THE BALINESE WITCH DOCTOR by KAREN SWENSON THE BALLAD OF WILLIAM SYCAMORE (1790-1880) by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET 1914: 3. THE DEAD by RUPERT BROOKE |