So the summer is done. Then high and higher The flame and roar of the prairie fire Swifter than wings, with, charred and black, The mad wild flight; while the dry roots crack Incessantly in the creeping blaze Left far behind the plunging plays Of wind-tossed grass, till the ditches meet The back-fire's stifling, scarred retreat. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PLAYERS ASK FOR A BLESSING ON THE PSALTERIES AND ON THEMSELVES by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TOMORROW by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD THE NEW ARRIVAL by GEORGE WASHINGTON CABLE THE MOON by WILLIAM HENRY DAVIES THE COURTSHIP OF THE YONGHY-BONGHY-BO by EDWARD LEAR |