The houses are haunted By white night-gowns. None are green, Or purple with green rings, Or green with yellow rings, Or yellow with blue rings. None of them are strange, With socks of lace And beaded ceintures. People are not going To dream of baboons and periwinkles. Only, here and there, an old sailor, Drunk and asleep in his boots, Catches tigers In red weather. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SUMMER'S GARDEN by ROBERT FROST STREET-CRIES: 7. A SONG OF LOVE by SIDNEY LANIER MARJORIE'S WOOING by EMMA LAZARUS A DAY IN BED by KATHERINE MANSFIELD SLEEPING TOGETHER by KATHERINE MANSFIELD |