THE silence of a City, how awful at Midnight! Mute as the battlements and crags and towers That Fancy makes in the clouds, yea, as mute As the moonlight that sleeps on the steady vanes. (or) The cell of a departed anchoret, His skeleton and flitting ghost are there, Sole tenants -- And all the City silent as the Moon That steeps in quiet light the steady vanes Of her huge temples. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NIGHT AND DAY: 4 by ISAAC ROSENBERG NOREMBEGA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE THORN by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH VOICES by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE BLIND ASTRONOMER by THOMAS ASA THREE SONNETS WRITTEN IN MID-CHANNEL: 3 by ALFRED AUSTIN DESCRIBES THE PLACE WHERE CYNTHIA IS SPORTING HERSELF by PHILIP AYRES |