Explore "A Woodland Grave" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ White moons may come, white moons may go -- / She sleeps where early blossoms blow; / Knows nothing of the leafy June, / That leans above her night and noon, / Crowned now with sunbeam, now with moon, / Watching her roses grow.
/ The downy moth at twilight comes / And flutters round their honeyed blooms: / Long, lazy clouds, like ivory, / That isle the blue lagoons of sky, / Redden to molten gold and dye / With flame the pine-deep glooms.