HEAR the sledges with the bells, Bells fashioned of a well-known metal. Up from the meadows rich with a prominent kind of grain, Clear in the cool September morn. The clustered spires of a small Southern town stand, Green walled by the hills of a famous state below Mason and Dixon's line. When as in a certain textile fabric my Julia goes, Then, then, methinks how sweetly flows The liquefaction of her feminine apparel. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HERITAGE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL THE FOREST by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE HISTORY OF ARCADIUS AND SEPHA: BOOK 2 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH EPITAPH by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON QUATRAIN: ROME by MADISON JULIUS CAWEIN |