Explore "The Way" by Amy Lowell on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
At first a mere thread of a footpath half blotted out by the grasses / Sweeping triumphant across it, it wound between hedges of roses / Whose blossoms were poised above leaves as pond lilies float on the water, / While hidden by bloom in a hawthorn a bird filled the morning with singing.
It widened a highway, majestic, stretching ever to distant horizons, / Where shadows of tree-branches wavered, vague outlines invaded by sunshine; / No sound but the wind as it whispered the secrets of earth to the flowers, / And the hum of the yellow bees, honey-laden and dusty with pollen.