All day and night, save winter, every weather, Above the inn, the smithy and the shop, The aspens at the cross-roads talk together Of rain, until their last leaves fall from the top. Out of the blacksmith's cavern comes the ringing Of hammer, shoe and anvil; out of the inn The clink, the hum, the roar, the random singing - The sounds that for these winter nights begin. All day and night, save winter, they are making In the warm darkness, miraculous repair, And here and there some beauty does the waking, Till summer when again they're caught aflare. And we, too, from the trivial workaday World's yoke and burden, shall have rest, and come Down the dim slopes to where, a stillness through, The aspens hold perpetual council. Thin Flame-like, they flower upon their branching stems, Whose slender, crowding, leaves are bright of hue Against the cold, discussed November sky. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET: THE EVENING STAR by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW A GENTLE ECHO ON WOMAN (IN THE DORIC MANNER) by JONATHAN SWIFT THE WINDOW; OR, THE SONG OF THE WRENS: MARRIAGE MORNING by ALFRED TENNYSON ON THOSE THAT HATED 'THE PLAYBOY OF THE WESTERN WORLD' by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 21 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT MUSIC ON CHRISTMAS MORNING by ANNE BRONTE |