THE morning glory climbs above my head, Pale flowers of white and purple, blue and red. I am disquieted. Down in the withered grasses something stirred; I thought it was his footfall that I heard. Then a grasshopper chirred. I climbed the hill just as the new moon showed, I saw him coming on the southern road. My heart lays down its load. (@3Helen Waddell@1) | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...COQUETTE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 99. AZ-ZABOOR by EDWIN ARNOLD THE SOLDIER'S TEAR by THOMAS HAYNES BAYLY THEN AND NOW by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON A DIALOGUE BETWEEN HOM-VEG AND BALLURE'S RIVER by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN ON THE DEATH OF A LAP-DOG, ECHO by ROBERT BURNS |