THE sun blown out; The dusk about: Fence, roof, tree -- here or there, Wedged fast in the drab air; A pool vacant with sky, That stares up like an eye. Nothing can happen. All is done -- The quest to fare, The race to run -- The house sodden with years, And bare Even of tears. A cry! From out the hostelries of sky, And down the gray wind blown; Rude, innocent, alone. Now, in the west, long sere, An orange thread, the length of spear; It glows; It grows; The flagons of the air Drip color everywhere: The village -- fence, roof, tree -- From the lapsed dusk pulls free, And shows A rich, still, unforgotten place; Each window square, Yellow for yellow renders back; The pool puts off its foolish face; The wagon track Crooks past lank garden-plot, To Rome, to Camelot. A cry! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TEN YEARS OLD by LOUIS UNTERMEYER THE LITTLE BLACK BOY, FR. SONGS OF INNOCENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE SONNETS FROM THE PORTUGUESE: 28 by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING HYMN OF THE EARTH by WILLIAM ELLERY CHANNING (1817-1901) OLNEY HYMNS: 35. LIGHT SHINING OUT OF DARKNESS by WILLIAM COWPER SIMON THE CYRENIAN SPEAKS by COUNTEE CULLEN RHAPSODY ON A WINDY NIGHT by THOMAS STEARNS ELIOT |