I THE air falls chill; The whippoorwill Pipes lonesomely behind the hill: The dusk grows dense, The silence tense; And, lo, the katydids commence. II Through shadowy rifts Of woodland, lifts The low, slow moon, and upward drifts, While left and right The fireflies' light Swirls eddying in the skirts of Night. III O Cloudland, gray And level, lay Thy mists across the face of Day! At foot and head, Above the dead, O Dews, weep on uncomforted! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RUINED MAID by THOMAS HARDY THE TEMERAIRE by HERMAN MELVILLE THE DESERTED HOUSE by ALFRED TENNYSON MY WINTER ROSE by ALFRED AUSTIN LINES TO SAMUEL ROGERS IN WALES ON EVE OF BASTILLE DAY 1791 by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD SIR RUPERT THE FEARLESS; A LEGEND OF GERMANY by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM |