Explore "Swinging" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Under the boughs of spring / She swung in the old rope-swing.
Her cheeks, with their happy blood, / Were pink as the apple-bud.
Her eyes, with their deep delight, / Were glad as the stars of night.
Her curls, with their romp and fun, / Were hoiden as wind and sun.
Her lips, with their laughter shrill, / Were wild as a woodland rill.
Under the boughs of spring / She swung in the old rope-swing.
And I, -- who leaned on the fence, / Watching her innocence,
As, under the boughs that bent, / Now high, now low, she went,
In her soul the ecstasies / Of the stars, the brooks, the breeze, --
Had given the rest of my years, / With their blessings, and hopes, and fears,
To have been as she was then; / And, just for a moment, again
A boy in the old rope-swing / Under the boughs of spring.