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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
EVENING, by EDWARD DOWDEN Poet's Biography
First Line: Light ebbs from off the earth; the fields are strange
Last Line: Cry, sea! It is thy hour; thou art alone.
First Line: Light ebbs from off the earth; the fields are strange
Last Line: Cry, sea! It is thy hour; thou art alone.
LIGHT ebbsfrom off the Earth; the fields are strange,
Dusk, trackless, tenantless; now the mute sky
Resigns itself to Night and Memory,
And no wind will yon sunken clouds derange,
No glory enrapture them; from cot or grange
The rare voice ceases; one long-breathed sigh,
And steeped in summer sleep the world must lie;
All things are acquiescing in the change.
Hush! while the vaulted hollow of the night
Deepens, what voice is this the sea sends forth,
Disconsolate iterance, a passionless moan?
Ah! now the Day is gone, and tyrannous Light,
And the calm presence of fruit-bearing Earth;
Cry, Sea! it is thy hour; thou art alone.