The day is down into his bower: In languid lights his feet he steeps: The flusht sky darkens, low and lower, And closes on the glowing deeps. In creeping curves of yellow foam Up shallow sands the waters slide: And warmly blow what whispers roam From isle to isle the lulled tide: The boats are drawn: the nets drip bright: Dark casements gleam: old songs are sung: And out upon the verge of night Green lights from lonely rocks are hung. O winds of eve that somewhere rove Where darkest sleeps the distant sea, Seek out where haply dreams my love, And whisper all her dreams to me! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...STRANGE MEETINGS: 10 by HAROLD MONRO A FINE DAY ON LOUGH SWILLY by WILLIAM ALEXANDER (1824-1911) SACRED LYRIC by ISIDORE G. ASCHER GOING BACK TO SCHOOL by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET RELEASE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE RANGE OF BEAUTY by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |