So often when our wan blue dusk wears thin We might forget the city edging close Upon our Loma meadows. Then Black Rose And Julie, sauntering down rue-paths, begin Their faintly jangled, hesitant small din -- Monotonous half-hushed adagios Inviting sleep -- and pastoral repose Enfolds long dreams of peace the night within. They do not browse alone, this hobbled pair Beside the sage brush. That reluctant bell Recalls ten thousand roaming herds that were A hundred years ago! Its stridours tell How from vaquero's lips a Spanish air Oft on old Loma evenings warmly fell. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE AFRICAN CHIEF by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE HOUSE WITH NOBODY IN IT by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER AT THE CEDARS by DUNCAN CAMPBELL SCOTT THE CENTENARIAN'S STORY by WALT WHITMAN MY BEAUTIFUL LADY by THOMAS WOOLNER TO THE DAISY (1) by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE LOOSED DRYAD by WILLIAM ROSE BENET A REPLY TO AN IMITATION OF THE SECOND ODE OF HORACE by RICHARD BENTLEY |