WITH sombre mien, the Evening gray Comes nagging at the heels of Day, And driven faster and still faster Before the dusky-mantled Master, The light fades from her fearful eyes, She hastens, stumbles, falls, and dies. Beside me Amaryllis weeps; The swelling tears obscure the deeps Of her dark eyes, as, mistily, The rushing rain conceals the sea. Here, lay my tuneless reed away, -- I have no heart to tempt a lay. I scent the perfume of the rose Which by my crystal fountain grows. In this sad time, are roses blowing? And thou, my fountain, art thou flowing, While I who watched thy waters spring Am all too sad to smile or sing? Nay, give me back my pipe again, It yet shall breathe this single strain: Farewell to Arcady! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BABY, FR. AT THE BACK OF THE NORTH WIND by GEORGE MACDONALD VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1884 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONG TOURNAMENT: NEW STYLE by LOUIS UNTERMEYER EPISTLES ON THE CHARACTER AND CONDITION OF WOMEN: 1 by LUCY AIKEN SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 50. MY LOVE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE VETERAN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN CAELIA: SONNETS: 9 by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |