Sun on the dewy grasslands where late the frost hath shone, And lo, what elfin cities are these we come upon! What pigmy domes and thatches, what Arab caravan, What downy-roofed pagodas that have known no touch of man! Are these the old-time meadows? Yes, the wildgrape scents the air; The breath of ripened orchards still is incense everywhere; Yet do these dawn-encampments bring the lurking memories Of Egypt and of Burma and the shores of China Seas. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FAT LADY by HAYDEN CARRUTH MOUNTAIN VALLEY by MALCOLM COWLEY FRAGMENTARY BLUE by ROBERT FROST CHERRY BLOSSOMS BLOWING IN WEST BLOWING SNOW by JAMES GALVIN DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |