Now the light o' the west is a-turn'd to gloom, An' the men be at hwome vrom ground; An' the bells be a-zenden all down the Coombe From tower, their mwoansome sound. An' the wind is still, An' the house-dogs do bark, An' the rooks be a-vled to the elems high an' dark, An' the water do roar at mill. An' the flickeren light drough the window-peane Vrom the candle's dull fleame do shoot, An' young Jemmy the smith is a-gone down leane, A-playen his shrill-vaiced flute. An' the miller's man Do zit down at his ease On the seat that is under the cluster o' trees, Wi' his pipe an' his cider can. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MATERNITY by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TRANSFORMATION by CARL SANDBURG THE LAWYER'S WAYS by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR NATURE (2) by RALPH WALDO EMERSON BLIGHTERS by SIEGFRIED SASSOON EPITHALAMION by EDMUND SPENSER |