Pleasant it is to lie amid the grass <br />Under these shady locusts, half the day, <br />Watching the ships reflected on the Bay, <br />Topmast and shroud, as in a wizard's glass; <br />To note the swift and meagre swallow pass, <br />Brushing the dewdrops from the lilac spray; <br />Or else to sit and while the noon away <br />With some old love-tale; or to muse, alas! <br />On Dante in his exile, sorrow-worn; <br />On Milton, blind, with inward-seeing eyes <br />That made their own deep midnight and rich morn; <br />To think that now, beneath Italian skies, <br />In such clear air as this, by Tiber's wave, <br />Daisies are trembling over Keats's grave.<br /><br />Thomas Bailey Aldrich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-bay-ridge-long-island/
