| Poems by Women |
Ellis Park
Little park that I pass through,
I carry off a piece
of you
Every morning hurrying down
To my work-day in the town;
Carry
you for country there
To make the city ways more fair.
I take your
trees,
And your breeze,
Your greenness,
Your cleanness,
Some of your
shade, some of your sky,
Some of your calm as I go by;
Your flowers to
trim
The pavements grim;
Your space for room in the jostled street
And
grass for carpet to my feet.
Your fountains take and sweet bird calls
To
sing me from my office walls.
All that I can see
I carry off with
me.
But you never miss my theft,
So much treasure you have left.
As I
find you, fresh at morning,
So I find you, home returning --
Nothing
lacking from your grace.
All your riches wait in place
For me to
borrow
On the morrow.
Do you hear this praise of you,
Little park that I pass through?
From: Rittenhouse, Jessie B.
The Second Book of Modern Verse (1919).
This poet:
[Author index]
This collection assembled by Jone Johnson Lewis.
Collection © 1999-2002 Jone Johnson Lewis.
Citing poems from these pages:
| Author. "Poem Title." Women's History: Poems by Women. Jone Johnson Lewis, editor. URL: (date of logon) |
