Dearest, it was a night That in its darkness rocked Orion's stars; A sighing wind ran faintly white Along the willows, and the cedar boughs Laid their wide hands in stealthy peace across The starry silence of their antique moss: No sound save rushing air Cold, yet all sweet with Spring, And in thy mother's arms, couched weeping there, Thou, lovely thing. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHAMBER MUSIC: 27 by JAMES JOYCE STREET-CRIES: 2. THE SHIP OF EARTH by SIDNEY LANIER DOMESDAY BOOK: ARCHIBALD LOWELL by EDGAR LEE MASTERS SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: TOM MERRITT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |