Softly along the road of evening, In a twilight dim with rose, Wrinkled with age, and drenched with dew Old Nod, the shepherd, goes. His drowsy flock streams on before him, Their fleeces charged with gold, To where the sun's last beam leans low On Nod the shepherd's fold. The hedge is quick and green with briar, From their sand the conies creep; And all the birds that fly in heaven Flock singing home to sleep. His lambs outnumber a noon's roses, Yet, when night's shadows fall, His blind old sheep-dog, Slumber-soon, Misses not one of all. His are the quiet steeps of dreamland, The waters of no-more-pain; His ram's bell rings 'neath an arch of stars, "Rest, rest, and rest again." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLE-CRY OF FREEDOM by GEORGE FREDERICK ROOT KEARNY AT SEVEN PINES [MAY 31, 1862] by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN PROMETHEUS UNBOUND: THE RED SEA by AESCHYLUS POEM, READ THE SOLDIERS' WELCOME, FRANKLIN, NEW YORK, AUG. 5, 1865 by B. H. BARNES ADESTE FIDELES by BERNARD OF CLAIRVAUX OUR ITALIAN JOURNEY by JULIEN AUGUSTE PELAGE BRIZEUX FOUR EPISTLES: MIRACLE AT THE FEAST OF PENTECOST: 4 by JOHN BYROM |