A PALE Italian peasant, Beside the dusty way, Upon this morning pleasant Kneels in the sun to pray. Silent in her devotion, With fervent glance she pleads; Her fingers' only motion, Telling her amber beads. Dreaming of ilex bowers Beyond the purple brine, Once more she sees the flowers Bloom at the wayside shrine. And, while the mad crowd jostles, She, with a visage sweet, Prays where the bisque apostles Are sold on Barclay Street. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE OLD SQUIRE by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT WOODBINES IN OCTOBER by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES FULLNESS OF THE BIBLE by H. J. BETTS PSALM 39, VERSE 5 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE THE DARK OF THE MOON by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE KENTUCKY POEMS: EPILOGUE by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN QUATRAIN: ECHO by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |