AT the western window I paused from writing rescripts; The pines and bamboos were all buried in stillness. The moon rose and a calm wind came; Suddenly, it was like an evening in the hills. And so, as I dozed, I dreamed of the South West And thought I was staying at the Hsien-yu Temple. When I woke and heard the dripping of the Palace clock I still thought it the murmur of a mountain stream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAISY by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS FOUND WANTING by EMILY DICKINSON A CONCEPTION by DAISY MAUD BELLIS BALLAD OF THE UNSUCCESSFUL by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE OLD MAN'S DARLING by PHOEBE CARY THE PURGATORY OF SUICIDES: BOOK 7, STANZA 7 by THOMAS COOPER TRANSMISSION by GLADYS CROMWELL |