A lazy loop of lozenged gray, I stretch amid the sand and sun, Or wind a sullen yard away The greasewood's creeping shade to shun. The hot earth nestles to my chin; My lidless orbs outstare the sky All unabashed. And dry and thin My unawakened rattles lie. Content I dream. Content is deep For whom three mortal joys there be— My own white sun; my ardent sleep; And sleep for him that wakens me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MOTHER by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO BAYARD TAYLOR by SIDNEY LANIER FLUTE-PRIEST SONG FOR RAIN; CEREMONIAL AT THE SUN SPRING by AMY LOWELL HOW THE GREAT GUEST CAME by EDWIN MARKHAM DR. SCUDDER'S CLINICAL LECTURE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |