Country roads are yellow and brown. We mend the roads in London town. Never a hansom dare come nigh, Never a cart goes rolling by. An unwonted silence steals In between the turning wheels. Quickly ends the autumn day, And the workman goes his way. Leaving, midst the traffic rude, One small isle of solitude. Lit, throughout the lengthy night, By the little lantern's light. Jewels of the dark have we, Brighter than the rustic's be. Over the dull earth are thrown Topaz, and the ruby stone. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BROTHERHOOD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE OCTOROON by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A BANJO SONG by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 30 by CLARENCE MAJOR CITIES OF THE PLAIN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BURIAL OF BOSTON CORBETT (ONE WARDEN TO ANOTHER) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |