Prterita.
Low belts of rushes ragged with the blast; Lagoons of marish reddening with the west; And o'er the marsh the water-fowl's unrest While daylight dwindles and the dusk falls fast. Set in sad walls, all mossy with the past, An old stone gateway with a crumbling crest; A garden where death drowses manifest; And in gaunt yews the shadowy house at last. Here, like some unseen spirit, silence talks With echo and the wind in each gray room Where melancholy slumbers with the rain: Or, like some gentle ghost, the moonlight walks In the dim garden, which her smile makes bloom With all the old-time loveliness again.
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"Low belts of rushes ragged with the blast;..."
Exploring the themes of classic, Madison Julius Cawein delivers a powerful performance in "Prterita."... ### Why We Love This Line At Linespedia, we believe that poetry is the ultimate sanctuary for the soul...