FAIR is her cottage in its place, Where yon broad water sweetly, slowly glides. It sees itself from thatch to base Dream in the sliding tides. And fairer she, but ah, how soon to die! Her quiet dream of life this hour may cease. Her peaceful being slowly passes by To some more perfect peace. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MOTHER (MARGERY CARRUTH, 1896-1981) by HAYDEN CARRUTH WORD-PORTRAITS: THE DESCRIPTION OF SIR GEOFFREY CHAUCER by ROBERT GREENE THE TWO WIVES by WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS KEENAN'S CHARGE by GEORGE PARSONS LATHROP ONLY WAITING by FRANCES LAUGHTON MACE A DEFIANCE, RETURNING TO THE PLACE OF HIS PAST AMOURS by PHILIP AYRES |