Explore "Sonnets" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The pattern of the earth, so wonderful, / Is, more than myrtle, very dear to me.
Across the avenue of limes I see / A little mist by ghosts made magical, / Tossing across the hills, more beautiful / Than the deep eyes of amber women, free / Of shame and of disdain, on some far sea / Swept by trade-winds the sun makes lyrical.