With glass like a bull's-eye, And shutters of green, Down on the cobbles Lives Mrs. MacQueen. At six she rises; At nine you see Her candle shine out In the linden tree; And at half-past nine Not a sound is nigh, But the bright moon's creeping Across the sky; Or a far dog baying; Or a twittering bird In its drowsy nest, In the darkness stirred; Or like the roar Of a distant sea, A long-drawn @3S-s-sh!@1 In the linden tree. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...RETALIATION by OLIVER GOLDSMITH THE SABBATH MORNING by JOHN LEYDEN WITH COLORS GAY by HOWARD S. ABBOTT THE CANDLE by GHALIB IBN RIBAH AL-HAJJAM UNSUNG by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A FINE DAY ON LOUGH SWILLY by WILLIAM ALEXANDER (1824-1911) IN THE DEEP WHITE SNOW by ANNE ATWOOD LEMNISCUS AD COLUMNAM S. SIMEONIS STYLITAE APPENSUS by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |