Explore "Home" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Among the fields the camomile / Seems blown steam in the lightning's glare. / Unusual odors drench the air. / Night speaks above; the angry smile / Of storm within her stare.
The way for me to-night? -- To-night, / Is through the wood whose branches fill / The road with dripping rain-drops. Till, / Between the boughs, a star-like light -- / Our home upon the hill.
The path for me to take? -- It goes / Around a trailer-tangled rock, / 'Mid puckered pink and hollyhock, / Unto a latch-gate's unkempt rose, / And door whereat I knock.
Bright on the old-time flower-place / The lamp streams through the foggy pane. / The door is opened to the rain; / And in the door -- her happy face, / And eager hands again.