A STRETCH of lawn as smooth as happiness, And tender green withal, and dappled o'er With shadows that the birches throw, unless A maple here and there throws shadows more. Beyond, the houses, spires, toilings, din, And all that makes a cityful of sin. And yet the sun's ashine, and, somehow, from This common scene, that's trying to be fair, There's something rises in the city's hum, There's something brooding o'er the smoke and blare, That makes the place and time and people seem A beauty, and a promise, and a dream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LAST LINES OF THOMAS INGOLDSBY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM THE BANKS O' DOON by ROBERT BURNS SONNET TO LAKE LEMAN by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE RUINED MAID by THOMAS HARDY THE CRICKET by FREDERICK GODDARD TUCKERMAN |