Where a hemlock tree depends its tented boughs Then lifts them up to startle and arouse All brittle twigs and blow soft crystal dust On diamond crust, There is a cry, a rusty answering caw That disturbs the raw White silence. This one crow braves The murdering cold in hemlock naves And corridors of oak Where his bold reverberating croak Echoes not unkindly from his chosen nook And I look Where swaying boughs reveal His purple silkenness. Here I will deal To him a full gold ear of corn, Perhaps to leave him less forlorn, But more to honor beauty in his gleaming coat And thank him for that friendly raucous note. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN I AM DEAD by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT by AMY LOWELL MADMAN OF THE SOUTH SIDE by CLARENCE MAJOR FROM THE AGES WITH A SMILE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE LEAVES FIRST by CARL PHILLIPS OCTAVES: 16 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON IN A BREATH; TO THE WILLIAMSON BROTHERS by CARL SANDBURG SANDHILL PEOPLE by CARL SANDBURG ESSAY: AT NIGHT THE AUTOPORTRAIT AT NIGHT by ELENI SIKELIANOS |