Classic Poem

The Wind in the Elms

The sunset's kiss, with lingering desire,
Unheeded, falls upon the elms asleep;
They are as lovers, sick of passion's fire,
And crave the Moon that rules the starry deep.

But when that haughty Queen rides down the lane,
And blows them kisses in a silver throng,
A gush of music floods the elms again,
And every leaf is exquisite with song.English