There's a place I know where the birds swing low,
And wayward vines go roaming,
Where the lilacs nod, and a marble god
Is pale, in scented gloaming.
And at sunset there comes a lady fair
Whose eyes are deep with yearning.
By an old, old gate does the lady wait
Her own true love's returning.
But the days go by, and the lilacs die,
And trembling birds seek cover;
Yet the lady stands, with her long white hands
Held out to greet her lover.
And it's there she'll stay till the shadowy day
A monument they grave her.
She will always wait by the same old gate, —
The gate her true love gave her.
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Comments
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I think she's being funny, for sure.
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I havn't read this poem of Dorothy's before, but I wonder if one line isn't wrong ..
"A monument they grave her."
is that the way she wrote it, maybe being a bit punny .. or was it supposed to be "gave her"? -
i love this poem and I love dorothy. of course I do realize that i AM commenting on a dead womens poems. but they are wonderful anyway
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