The archeress had gone; A western hill across her path still bore The magic of her recent footing there; And upwards all the air was lustral pure. The city slept, but far above shone bright The city of the gods that never sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MARSHALL WASHER by HAYDEN CARRUTH THE GHOST OF DEACON BROWN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: IPPOLIT KONOVALOFF by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE NEW APOCRYPHA: BERENICE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |