THE magic moment of the eve has come, When keen behind the hill the afterglow Makes gold and flame of heaven, too soon to change To mother-of-pearl; and hark! the hid thrush sings His master-song, wee Walter of the wood, So silvery and sweet that one is sure He'll win his Eva, put to shame for aye All rivals, prove himself a knight indeed At minstrelsy, and live by music's might So long as men have ears and Time a tongue. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE DEATH OF A PHOTOGRAPHER by KAREN SWENSON HIS MOTHER'S SERVICE TO OUR LADY by FRANCOIS VILLON THE WILD HONEYSUCKLE by PHILIP FRENEAU PORTRAIT BY A NEIGHBOR by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE WOODSPURGE by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI THE WIDOW'S LAMENT IN SPRINGTIME by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS INDIGNATION; AN ODE by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE ODES: BOOK 1: ODE 17. ON A SERMON AGAINST GLORY by MARK AKENSIDE CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: TO THE READER by WILLIAM BASSE |