Explore "Chevely Crossing" by Joyce Kilmer on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Where two roads cross by Chevely town / A man is lying dead. / The rumbling wains of scented hay / Roll over his fair head; / A stake is driven through his heart, / For his own blood he shed.
Among the pleasant flower-stars / By God's own garden gate, / A little maid fresh come from earth / One summer night did wait; / Her poppy mouth dropped down with fear, / With fear her eyes were great.