The archeress had gone; A western hill across her path still bore The magic of her recent footing there; And upwards all the air was lustral pure. The city slept, but far above shone bright The city of the gods that never sleep. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRANSPOSITIONS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON MONADNOCK IN EARLY SPRING by AMY LOWELL SURFACES AND MASKS; 7 by CLARENCE MAJOR WORDS INTO WORDS WON'T GO by CLARENCE MAJOR SIXTEEN MONTHS by CARL SANDBURG THE FOUR BROTHERS by CARL SANDBURG |