Explore "Poems" by Elinor Jenkins on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
A month ago they marched to fight / Away 'twixt the woodland and the sown, / I walked that lonely road to-night / And yet I could not feel alone.
The voice of the wind called shrill and high / Like a bugle band of ghosts, / And the restless leaves that shuffled by / Seemed the tread of the phantom hosts.