Explore "The Covered Bridge" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There, from its entrance, lost in matted vines, -- / Where in the valley foams a water-fall, -- - / Is glimpsed a ruined mill's remaining wall; / Here, by the road, the oxeye daisy mines / Hot brass and bronze; the trumpet-trailer shines / Red as the plumage of the cardinal. / Faint from the forest comes the rain-crow's call / Where dusty Summer dreams among the pines. / This is the spot where Spring writes wildflower verses / In primrose pink, while, drowsing o'er his reins, / The ploughman, all unnoticing, plods along: / And where the Autumn opens weedy purses / Of sleepy silver, while the corn-heaped wains / Rumble the bridge like some deep throat of song.