Day silently passes, the twilight falls, Like old amber splashed on the garden walls. Jagged hills, tawny as a lion cub, Rise majestically over green fields; And the air trembles with a rasping rub As measured as breathing of fabled gnomes ... Then in that breathless moment twilight yields To the somber robe flung down as night comes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 18 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN SHADOWS by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR OUT OF THE HILLS by IRENE ARCHER ON BEARING THE CROSS by JOHN BYROM SONGS OF THE SEA CHILDREN: PRELUDE by BLISS CARMAN THE SALMON GILLERS by DOROTHY MARIE DAVIS |