The trees are still; the bare cold branches lie Against a waiting sky. Light everywhere, but ghostly light that seems The cast-off robe of dreams; And everywhere a hush that seems to hark At the doorway of the dark. O fields, white-sheeted, desolate and dumb, -- If you knew what's to come! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...OUR COUNTRY'S CALL by WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT THE ADMIRER by CLAUDIA EMERSON ODE (MUSIC-MAKERS) by ARTHUR WILLIAM EDGAR O'SHAUGHNESSY FOREIGN LANDS by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON THE CHARACTER OF A HAPPY LIFE by HENRY WOTTON TO HIS HEART, BIDDING IT HAVE NO FEAR by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS CUPS OF ILLUSION by HENRY BELLAMANN |