The yellow dusk winds round the city wall; The crows are drawn to nest, Silently down the west They hasten home, and from the branches call. A woman sits and weaves with fingers deft Her story of the flower-lit stream, Threading the jasper gauze in dream, Till like faint smoke it dies; and she, bereft, Recalls the parting words that died Under the casement some far eventide, And stays the disappointed loom, While from the little lonely room Into the lonely night she peers, And, like the rain, unheeded fall her tears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LENTEN GREETING; TO A LADY by GEORGE SANTAYANA SONG OF MARION'S MEN by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT RECOLLECTIONS OF LOVE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE HAMATREYA by RALPH WALDO EMERSON CALDWELL OF SPRINGFIELD [JUNE 23, 1780] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS ON HIS RETURN FROM SPAIN by THOMAS WYATT A DAY: AN EPISTLE TO JOHN WILKES, OF AYLESBURY, ESQ. by JOHN ARMSTRONG PROLOGUE TO DRAMA ..... ANNIVERSARY OF CARRS' MARRIAGE by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |