THE little southern city, full of light, Full of warm light, and coloured like a peach; The river winnowing either chalky beach With eddying streams from some vine-haunted height; Those pillar'd windows hung with kerchiefs bright, That rosy bell-tower with its mellow speech In liquid bells that murmured each to each, Those fleecy, full acacias, robed in white! Ah! most those warm acacias! like a tune Their odour fell and rose and died away All through that noiseless dreamy afternoon; Beside the quay you sat and sketched; I lay To watch the trembling breezes lift and sway The boughs through which there climbed a shadowy moon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE FALL by HAYDEN CARRUTH ROBERT FROST RELATES THE DEATH OF THE TIRED MAN by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE FIGHTING RACE [FEBRUARY 16, 1898] by JOSEPH IGNATIUS CONSTANTINE CLARKE SONNET: 57 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by ALFRED TENNYSON |