SILENTLY, slowly falls the snow from an ashen sky, Cries, and sounds of life from the city rise no more, No more the hawker's shout and the sound of running wheels, No more the joyous song of love and youth arise. Raucously from the somber spire through the leaden air The hours moan, like sighs of a world removed from time. Wandering birds insistent knock on the glowing panes. My ghostly friends return, and gaze, and call to me. Soon, my dear ones, soon—be still, O dauntless heart— Down to the silence I come, in the shadow I will rest. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CHARGE AT SANTIAGO by WILLIAM HAMILTON HAYNE THE NEGRO SPEAKS OF RIVERS by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES ON A LADY WHO FANCIED HERSELF A BEAUTY by CHARLES SACKVILLE (1637-1706) THE WINGLESS VICTORY by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. |