THE sun is low, The waters flow, My boat is dancing to and fro. The eve is still, Yet from the hill The killdeer echoes loud and shrill. The paddles plash, The wavelets dash, We see the summer lightning flash; While now and then, In marsh and fen Too muddy for the feet of men, Where neither bird Nor beast has stirred, The spotted bullfrog's croak is heard. The wind is high, The grasses sigh, The sluggish stream goes sobbing by. And far away The dying day Has cast its last effulgent ray; While on the land The shadows stand Proclaiming that the eve's at hand. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE STARLING; SONNET by AMY LOWELL GOOD-BYE DOROTHY GAYLE: THE ROAD TO BUFFALO by KAREN SWENSON A WINTER NIGHT by SARA TEASDALE GROWTH by MILDRED TELFORD BARNWELL ON THE BIRTHDAY OF WASHINGTON by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE FOUR WINDS by MAXWELL STRUTHERS BURT FOURTH BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 4 by THOMAS CAMPION |