Explore "Phantoms" by Madison Cawein on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
/ This was her home; one mossy gable thrust / Above the cedars and the locust trees: / This was her home, whose beauty now is dust, / A lonely memory for melodies / The wild birds sing, the wild birds and the bees.
/ Here every evening is a prayer: no boast / Or ruin of sunset makes the wan world wroth; / Here, through the twilight, like a pale flower's ghost, / A drowsy flutter, flies the tiger-moth; / And dusk spreads darkness like a dewy cloth.