AH, me! I know how like a golden flower The Grand Ronde valley lies this August night, Locked in by dimpled hills where purple light Lies wavering. There at the sunset hour Sink downward, like a rainbow-tinted shower, A thousand colored rays, soft, changeful, bright. Later the large moon rises, round and white, And three Blue Mountain pines against it tower, Lonely and dark. A coyote's mournful cry Sinks from the canon, -- whence the river leaps A blade of silver underneath the moon. Like restful seas the yellow wheat-fields lie, Dreamless and still. And while the valley sleeps, O hear! -- the lullabies that low winds croon. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A LITTLE BOY LOST, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE WANDERER: 2. IN FRANCE: THE CHESSBOARD by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON WINTER NIGHT by CH'IEN WEN OF LIANG PASSION'S HOUNDS by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES AT CASTLE BOTEREL by THOMAS HARDY WIDOW MALONE by CHARLES JAMES LEVER THE ANGEL IN THE HOUSE: BOOK 1. CANTO 2. PRELUDE: LOVE AT LARGE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE |