AT morn, when first the rosy gleam Of rising sun proclaimed the day, There reached me, thro' my last sweet dream, This oft-repeated lay: (Too sweet for cry, Too brief for song, 'Twas borne along The reddening sky) @3Bob White! Daylight, Bob White! Daylight!@1 At eve, when first the fading glow Of setting sun foretold the night, The same sweet call came, soft and low, Across the dying light: (Too sweet for cry, Too brief for song, 'Twas but a long, Contented sigh) @3Bob White! Good Night, Bob White! Good Night!@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME by STEPHEN COLLINS FOSTER THE GRAVE OF A POETESS by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS ABOU BEN ADHEM by JAMES HENRY LEIGH HUNT A SOUL; A STUDY by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI LINES TO A NASTURTIUM (A LOVER MUSES) by ANNE SPENCER THE MORAL WARFARE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 36. STRONG, LIKE THE SEA by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |