Wild tales of that white house were whispered me Across the neighbor's fence. An old dame said: "A beautiful mother paced, with bended head And fingers, muttering monotony, That porch in other days, and seemed to see Only the squirrels burying nuts and bread, Which over the rail she tossed them fitfully, -- At last they took her off; her little three Learned all they knew of her at father's knee, -- And when she died she did not die in bed . . . She haunts us most when waves are white to view Under those bluffs" -- and pointed down the sky -- "And now the old man is about to die, And have you seen the old man's daughter?" -- "Who?" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RHYME FOR A CHILD VIEWING A NAKED VENUS IN A PAINTING by ROBERT BROWNING PROMISES LIKE A PIE-CRUST by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 5 by ALFRED TENNYSON THE PLEASED CAPTIVE; A SONG by PHILIP AYRES |