Once on a day, alone but not elate, I sat perusing a forgotten sage And turning hopelessly a dim old page Of history, long disused and out of date, Reading "his Method" till I lost my own. When suddenly there fell a gold presage Of sunset sunshine on the letters thrown. The day had been one cloud, but now a bird Shot into song. I left my hermitage With happy heart; but ere I reached the gate The sun was gone, the bird, and bleak and drear, All but an icy breath the balsams stirred: I turned again and, entering with a groan, Sat darkly down to Dagoraus Whear. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HIS WINDING-SHEET by ROBERT HERRICK ODE ON A DISTANT PROSPECT OF CLAPHAM ACADEMY by THOMAS HOOD TWO POEMS TO HANS THOMA ON HIS SIXIETH BIRTHDAY: 1. MOONLIGHT NIGHT by RAINER MARIA RILKE A LEAVE-TAKING by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE HIS RETIREMENT by PHILIP AYRES |