The drowsy garden scatters insects Bronze as the ash from braziers blown. Level with me and with my candle, Hang flowering worlds, their leaves full-grown. As into some unheard-of dogma I move across into this night, Where a worn poplar age has grizzled Screens the moon's strip of fallow light, Where the pond lies, an open secret, Where apple-bloom is surf and sigh, And where the garden, a lake-dwelling, Holds out in front of it the sky | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR ONCE, THEN, SOMETHING by ROBERT FROST CEREMONIES FOR CHRISTMAS (1) by ROBERT HERRICK IN THIS AGE OF HARD TRYING, NONCHALANCE IS GOOD AND by MARIANNE MOORE THE CHILD ALONE: 3. MY KINGDOM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON A PARTING SONG by WILLIAM AITKEN RESIGNATION by AUGUSTE ANGELLIER |