Explore "Feud" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A mile of lane, -- hedged high with iron-weeds / And dying daisies, -- white with sun, that leads / Downward into a wood; through which a stream / Steals like a shadow; over which is laid / A bridge of logs, worn deep by many a team, / Sunk in the tangled shade.
Far off a wood-dove lifts its lonely cry; / And in the sleepy silver of the sky / A gray hawk wheels scarce larger than a hand. / From point to point the road grows worse and worse, / Until that place is reached where all the land / Seems burdened with some curse.