I THINK that, even as then, there must be hours When great, cool suns in summer set like shields Beyond the long grey line of Rugby towers, When all the weary air strange perfume yields, Being now made sweet with many months of flowers, And through the unending hedge-divided fields, In small, top-hatted parties, very slow They wander down where those long railways go. The yellow moon is like a broken crown, And like old incense is the new-cut hay, As one of those long evenings draws down, And as a thing forgotten dies the day. The distant lights come out in Rugby town, And slow bells sound from very far away, As full of scents, and touched by tender light, The silent air swoons into an August night. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AND THEY OBEY by CARL SANDBURG ODE WRITTEN IN [THE BEGINNING OF THE YEAR] 1746 by WILLIAM COLLINS (1721-1759) A SEA STORY by EMILY HENRIETTA HICKEY THE GREAT SAINT BERNARD by SAMUEL ROGERS DEAD LOVE by MARY MATHEWS ADAMS THE ROAD TO APPENZELL by HENRY GLASSFORD BELL |