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PoemsShe shrieks as she sweeps past the earth And, rising, pumps for all shes worth; The chains she grips almost go slack; Then, seated skyward, she drops back.
When swept high to the rear, she sees
Her father lacks such speed and sight,
Over the ground, examining
... This article is available to subscribers and for individual purchaseSubscribe to TNC (Print and Online editions) Subscribe to TNC (Online only) This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 23 April 2005, on page 27 Copyright © 2012 The New Criterion | www.newcriterion.com http://www.newcriterion.com/articles.cfm/the-swing-1302
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