The Sun kept setting - setting - still No Hue of Afternoon - Upon the Village I perceived From House to House 'twas Noon - The Dusk kept dropping - dropping - still No Dew upon the Grass - But only on my Forehead stopped - And wandered in my Face - My Feet kept drowsing - drowsing - still My fingers were awake - Yet why so little sound - Myself Unto my Seeming - make? How well I knew the Light before - I could see it now - 'Tis Dying - I am doing - but I'm not afraid to know | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODES III, 29 by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS SONNET: 19 by RICHARD BARNFIELD ALPINE SPIRIT'S SONG by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE GOOD COUNSEL by WILLIAM ROSE BENET THE SEA-BIRD'S SONG by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD AN INVECTIVE AGAINST THE WORLD, SELECTION by NICHOLAS BRETON AN ELEGY ON THE LADY PEN; SENT TO MY MISTRESS OUT OF FRANCE by THOMAS CAREW |