THE bittern hies, In lazy flight, Where star-shine lies O'er moorlands white, And shakes new fear from ghostly night. The reeds hang stiff By many a stream, The sailing skiff Sails like a dream, And prayers go up beneath the gleam. Rude falls the wave On shingle cold, And foam-beads lave The forests old, And break and die on their dark mould. In pools like stone, So still and bright, The stork alone, As an anchorite, Tells to himself his dreary rite. No cloud is strewn O'er the frozen sky; To a spirit tune Their lullaby The oaks around chant dismally. Not a living man Moves on the moor; No soul that can Opes now the door, But silent fear haunts the wild shore. Bad spirits sail On the cloudy rack, The dark turns pale In their blasting track, Where they touch the frost is sooty black. The marsh grass thin Shivers in fear, Thistle-downs spin From the thistle sere, And shadows race o'er the levels drear. Like silver shines Each sea-shell worn. The ridged sand-lines By surges torn Seem faery ramparts left and lorn. A star down drops From the sea on high, Past the forest tops To the lower sky, Like a tear from a suffering angel's eye. Icicles hoar Split and descend; On the freezing shore The frost kings rend Their sheeny jewelry evermore. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT NIGHT; SONNET by AMY LOWELL DEATH OF THE DAY by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR SONNET: 71 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE PEARLS OF THE FAITH: 68. AL-KADAR by EDWIN ARNOLD EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 12. LIFE FOR LOVE by PHILIP AYRES |