Explore "From the Tuscan" by Edith Nesbit on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
WHEN in the west the red sun sank in glory, / The cypress trees stood up like gold, fine gold; / The mother told her little child the story / Of the gold trees the heavenly gardens hold.
In golden dreams the child sees golden rivers, / Gold trees, gold blossoms, golden boughs and leaves, / Without, the cypress in the night wind shivers, / Weeps with the rain and with the darkness grieves.