Explore "Sonnets" by Helen Hay Whitney on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
The country road at lonely close of day / Rests for a while from the long stress of rain; / Dripping and bowed, the green walls of the lane / Reflect no glistening light, no colors gay / Has dying Summer left. The sky is gray, / As though the weeping had not eased the pain.
The Autumn is not yet, and all in vain / Seems Summer's life -- a blossom cast away.