A WISP and a tangle, A streamer, a mesh, For the old tree to dangle, The spring wind to thresh: The young moon behind it, A cabin below; An owl there to mind it, And Venus to glow: A pool in the rice-field, With peepers to plash; Some cedars, a mice-field, Where furry things dash And shake down the seeds From the quivering weeds; Where the meadow-lark breeds, And -- the person were rash Who would think to undo all that moss from the tree, Or blot this dear picture from Southland and me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CAVALIER TUNES: MARCHING ALONG by ROBERT BROWNING ANTIQUITY OF FREEDOM by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE PLANTING OF THE APPLE TREE by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT IN A GARDEN by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE ONCE IN A WAY by ANTIPHILUS OF BYZANTIUM A SONG OF SUN SETTING by JANE BARLOW |