The moon was going down; the empty trees shook, sighing, The frost breath in the grasses sere Made joyless anthem; one more year Was dying. Abroad a smuggled light, a luckless light was waning Over the houses hushed, and I Stood numbed, with neither love nor sigh Remaining. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARRIAGE OF HEAVEN AND HELL by WILLIAM BLAKE INSCRIPTION FOR A FOUNTAIN ON A HEATH by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE MAUDE CLARE by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI BILLY, HE'S IN TROUBLE by JAMES BARTON ADAMS THE POET: A RHAPSODY by MARK AKENSIDE EMBLEMS OF LOVE: 31. 'TIS YIELDING GAINS THE LOVER VICTORY by PHILIP AYRES |