TO OTTILIE

YOU remember, I suppose,

How the August sun arose,

And how his face

Woke to trill and carolette

All the cages that were set

About the place.

In the tender morning light

All around lay strange and bright

And still and sweet,

And the gray doves unafraid

Went their morning promenade

Along the street.

New Poems, and Variant Readings · 第 35 / 149 题