Explore "The Intruder" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ There is a smell of roses in the room / Tea-roses, dead of bloom; / An invalid, she sits there in the gloom, / And contemplates her doom.
/ The pattern of the paper, and the grain. / Of carpet, with its stain, / Have stamped themselves, like fever, on her brain, / And grown a part of pain.