Slow Smoke/The Lamps of Bracken-town
THE LAMPS OF BRACKEN-TOWN
Beneath a canopy of fernsThe frosted berries hung;Like lanterns on a slender arm,Their blazing crimson swung—Lanterns to rout the brooding dark,To blaze the way of cricketsAdventuring down the gloomy streetsBeneath the bracken-thickets.