AS I wandered through the eight hundred and eight streets of the city, I saw nothing so beautiful As the Women of the Green Houses, With their girdles of spun gold, And their long-sleeved dresses, Colored like the graining of wood. As they walk, The hems of their outer garments flutter open, And the blood-red linings glow like sharp-toothed maple leaves In autumn. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ON THE MORNING OF CHRIST'S NATIVITY: THE HYMN by JOHN MILTON RECOLLECTIONS OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS by ALFRED TENNYSON MOUNTAIN FROLIC by GEORGE LAWRENCE ANDREWS THE VETERAN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN EXAGGERATION by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING LEEZIE LINDSAY by ROBERT BURNS |