The High-School Lawn by Thomas Hardy Gray prinked with rose, White tipped with blue, Shoes with gay hose, Sleeves of chrome hue; Fluffed frills of white, Dark bordered light; Such shimmerings through Trees of emerald green are eyed This afternoon, from the road outside.
They whirl around: Many laughters run With a cascade's sound; Then a mere one.
A bell: they flee: Silence then: -- So it will be Some day again With them, -- with me.
Today's poem is in the public domain. |
Poem-A-Day
Launched in 2006, Poem-A-Day features new and previously unpublished poems by contemporary poets on weekdays and classic poems on weekends. |
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