'Tis a steep wood of rocks, With the fern grown everywhere; But with no birds -- not a wing! And the falls come down there. Even an Indian trail Would swerve to a haunt so fair! One used to -- there were the ferns And the falls came down there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CARGO MOVING TO GAZA (1988) by MARVIN BELL CAMPUS SONNET: RETURN - 1917 by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET WORDS IN A CERTAIN APPROPRIATE MODE by HAYDEN CARRUTH SPOKEN AT A CASTLE GATE by DONALD (GRADY) DAVIDSON ABOVE AND WITHIN by DAVID IGNATOW EVERYBODY KNOWS by DAVID IGNATOW |