A TOWN lies in the valley, A pale day fades and dies; And it will not be long before Neither moon nor starlight, Night only fills the skies. From all the mountain ridges Creeps mist, and swathes the town; No farm, no house, no wet red roof Can pierce the thickly woven woof, And scarce even spires and bridges. But as the wanderer shudders, Deep down a streak of light rejoices His heart; and, through the smoke and haze, Children's voices Begin a gentle hymn of praise. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 19. THE FAIRY QUEEN PROSERPINA by THOMAS CAMPION SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE. 6. IN THE CEMETERY by THOMAS HARDY ON THE BUILDING OF SPRINGFIELD by NICHOLAS VACHEL LINDSAY ONE CROWDED HOUR, FR. OLD MORTALITY by WALTER SCOTT |