Tis evening now the sun descends In golden glory down the sky The city's murmur softly blends With zephyrs breathing gently by And yet it seems a dreary [morn] A dark October [morn] to me And black the piles of rainclouds [borne] Athwart heaven's stormy canopy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FETES GALANTES: ROMANCES SANS PAROLE, SELECTION by PAUL VERLAINE AGAINST HOPE by ABRAHAM COWLEY SEA GODS: 1 by HILDA DOOLITTLE YOU ON THE TOWER by THOMAS HARDY MEZZO CAMMIN by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE LARK ASCENDING by GEORGE MEREDITH CROSSING THE PLAINS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER |