I THREADED endless aisles Of level trees, of spare, Undeviating wood; I penetrated streets Of houses parallel; I crossed a common where My day paused sentinel; At evenfall I stood Before the dim defiles Of dusk, where light retreats, Immured in sombre ward. The sheathed sun went down; Opaque was heaven's frown; Mountains, looming grey, Framed the threshold -- yea -- The portal to the Lord. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHITE AN' BLUE by WILLIAM BARNES THIS SUMMER AND LAST by THOMAS HARDY THE DARK MAN by NORA (CHESSON) HOPPER EPITAPH ON ELIZABETH, L.H. by BEN JONSON EPICUREAN by WILLIAM JAMES LINTON THE MILKING-MAID by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI |