Thomas Bailey Aldrich
At Bay Ridge, Long Island
Pleasant it is to lie amid the grass
Under these shady locusts, half the day,
Watching the ships reflected on the Bay,
Topmast and shroud, as in a wizard's glass;
To note the swift and meagre swallow pass,
Brushing the dewdrops from the lilac spray;
Or else to sit and while the noon away
With some old love-tale; or to muse, alas!
On Dante in his exile, sorrow-worn;
On Milton, blind, with inward-seeing eyes
That made their own deep midnight and rich morn;
To think that now, beneath Italian skies,
In such clear air as this, by Tiber's wave,
Daisies are trembling over Keats's grave.
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Comments about this poem (At Bay Ridge, Long Island by Thomas Bailey Aldrich )
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William Ernest Henley
- Mind, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
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- When The Evening Light Comes, Pijush Biswas
- Hindi haiku (56-60), S.D. TIWARI
- Retirement (or) Till Your Last, Natarajan Ramaseshan
- An illicit dream....., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- The House Across Our Road, Kuda Bondamakara
- sadism, Gangadharan nair Pulingat..
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