Explore "At the Lane's End" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ I. No more to strip the roses from / The rose-boughs of her porch's place! -- / I dreamed last night that I was home / Beside a rose -- her face.
/ I must have smiled in sleep -- who knows? -- / The rose aroma filled the lane; / I saw her white hand's lifted rose / That called me home again.