WHEN the long day dies in summer and flowers are closing, They scatter their odours that thrill thro' the drowsy sense, And our eyelids fall, while the sense, alert, lies dozing And behind our slumber we gaze thro' a cloudless lens. Then the stars are brighter, the dark has more soft concealment, And over the dome of heav'n is a hue of day, And the shy, dim dawn, awaiting the sun's fulfilment, Lurks all night long low down on the skyline gray. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT SAGAMORE HILL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE CHOIRMASTER'S BURIAL by THOMAS HARDY OVER THE RIVER by NANCY WOODBURY PRIEST SHERIDAN'S RIDE [DECEMBER 19, 1864] by THOMAS BUCHANAN READ THE HOUND OF HEAVEN by FRANCIS THOMPSON |