With a dull moan and hollow-sounding cry, Lamenting on the leafless summit's height In the winter's sad and melancholy light, November's chill, disheveling gales blow by. Dark clouds go racing in the somber sky Like ponderous steeds apace with mad affright, Borne onward flinging in tempestuous flight Their grey manes on the wind that drives them high. No tuneful bird cheers now the pierced, bleak woods, Or warbles gayly by the leaf-choked brook That hushes in the silent awe of change, For all is desolate; the solitudes Are dreary. Here about me as I look I find familiar places all so strange. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A POET'S EPITAPH by EBENEZER ELLIOTT A MOTHER'S LOVE by JAMES MONTGOMERY THE THIRD OF FEBRUARY, 1852 by ALFRED TENNYSON DRINKING SONG (1) by ALCAEUS OF MYTILENE SILVER ANNIVERSARY by BEULAH ALLYNE BELL THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: ASTARTE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |