There's a green hollow where a river sings Silvering the torn grass in its glittering flight, And where the sun from the proud mountain flings Fire -- and the little valley brims with light. A soldier young, with open mouth, bare head, Sleeps with his neck in dewy water cress, Under the sky and on the grass his bed, Pale in the deep green and the light's excess. He sleeps amid the iris and his smile Is like a sick child's slumbering for a while. Nature, in thy warm lap his chilled limbs hide! The perfume does not thrill him from his rest. He sleeps in sunshine, hand upon his breast, Tranquil -- with two red holes in his right side. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POETS ARE BORN NOT MADE by ROBERT FROST WHAT I'VE BELIEVED IN by JAMES GALVIN THE BLACK MAMMY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON CITIES OF THE PLAIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS RICHARD BOOTH TO HIS SON JUNIUS BRUTUS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS HOLES BORED IN A WORKBAG BY THE SCISSORS by MARIANNE MOORE |