A little porch with roof and sides Cobwebbed by overhanging leaves, Led into that old woman's house; The lattice windows almost blind From heavy, leafy brows. 'Each time we see a shooting-star, A child is born on earth,' she said; 'Six stars were mine, six children born, But all my little chicks are dead.' Eyes budded like a cat's by day, They only showed sufficient light To keep her little house all clean -- And flowered full large at night. For well it pleased that poor old soul To see the stars give children birth, Sitting, inside her porch, alone; Counting those babes, if any came, And thinking of her own. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT SAGAMORE HILL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS A MODEST LOVE; SONG by EDWARD DYER A PATCH OF OLD SNOW by ROBERT FROST THE MAID'S LAMENT; ELIZABETHAN by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR IDYLLS OF THE KING: THE PASSING OF ARTHUR by ALFRED TENNYSON THE FLAT-HUNTER'S WAY by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS HILL MAN'S BURIAL by LILLIAN M. (PETTES) AINSWORTH |