The hid sun strikes red thro' the low eaves' slow dripping, Thro' the long day's dark downpour to the rain-butt's full lipping; On leaning limp trellis, on long wet boughs dipping, On lee ice a-wash, on the spent snow's swift slipping On the barques in the ditches the bubbles outstripping. In the chill of the twilight, the clumped grasses listen. In the glitter of starlight the white hoarfrost glistens. And a new earth, white, waxen, thro' the purple dawn spaces, Lifts crystal and stardust in gossamer graces— All elfland and gnomeland and homeland together— God's breath in the night and His weather, God's weather. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BALLADE OF WENCHES by FRANCOIS VILLON THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD: PASTORAL 3. THE HAPPY COUNTRYMAN by NICHOLAS BRETON AN ELEGY: TO AN OLD BEAUTY by THOMAS PARNELL YOUR LAD, AND MY LAD by RANDALL PARRISH THE CARD-DEALER by DANTE GABRIEL ROSSETTI |