Explore "The Old Inn" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ 1. Red-winding from the sleepy town, / One takes the lone, forgotten lane / Straight through the hills. A brush-bird brown / Bubbles in thorn-flowers sweet with rain; / Light shivers sink the gleaming grain; / The cautious drip of higher leaves / The lower dips that drip again. -- / Above the tangled tops it heaves / Its gables and its haunted eaves.
/ 2. One creeper, gnarled to bloomlessness, / O'er-forests all its eastern wall; / The sighing cedars rake and press / Dark boughs along the panes they sprawl; / While, where the sun beats, breaks a drawl / Of hiving wasps; one bushy bee, / Gold-dusty, hurls along the hall / To hum into a crack. -- To me / The shadows seem too scared to flee.