From The Tuscan

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Title:     From The Tuscan
Author: Edith Nesbit [More Titles by Nesbit]

WHEN in the west the red sun sank in glory,
The cypress trees stood up like gold, fine gold;
The mother told her little child the story
Of the gold trees the heavenly gardens hold.

In golden dreams the child sees golden rivers,
Gold trees, gold blossoms, golden boughs and leaves,
Without, the cypress in the night wind shivers,
Weeps with the rain and with the darkness grieves.

[The end]
Edith Nesbit's poem: From The Tuscan

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