Then I will dream of blue horizons deep;
Of gardens where the marble fountains weep;
Of kisses, and of ever-singing birds—
A sinless Idyll built of innocent words.
And Trouble, knocking at my window-pane
And at my closet door, shall knock in vain;
I will not heed him with his stealthy tread,...
The Angle of a Landscape —
That every time I wake —
Between my Curtain and the Wall
Upon an ample Crack —
Like a Venetian — waiting —
Accosts my open eye —
Is just a Bough of Apples —
Held slanting, in the Sky —
The Pattern of a Chimney —
The Forehead of a...