Explore "Mirage" by Ella Wheeler Wilcox on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
When the beautiful mountain ash is turning -- / As lovely a sight as the eyes desire; / When the leaves of the sumac bush are burning, / Like the steady flame of a winter fire; / When the weeds by the roadside all grow golden, / When maples are glowing and asters gleam, / It is then that the new is changed to the olden, / And back to my heart comes the past like a dream.
Like a mirage I see the blue haze o'er me, / The City of Youth that I left behind. / Oh! whitely its turrets are gleaming before me, / And out of the window lean faces kind. / And I hear the echo of jubilant voices; / There are cheeks of beauty and eyes of truth: / And every pulse in my heart rejoices -- / There's no other place like the City of Youth.