The cricket sang, And set the sun, And workmen finished, one by one, Their seam the day upon. The low grass loaded with the dew, The twilight stood as strangers do With hat in hand, polite and new, To stay as if, or go. A vastness, as a neighbor, came, -- A wisdom without face or name, A peace, as hemispheres at home, -- And so the night became. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR LAUREL AND HARDY ON MY WORKROOM WALL by DAVID WAGONER OLD POETS by ALFRED JOYCE KILMER VALENTINES TO MY MOTHER: 1878 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI COLUMBUS [JANUARY, 1487] by LYDIA HUNTLEY SIGOURNEY |