Little rivers at twilight, Little wintry rivers, Running between brown trees With mistletoed branches; Catching dark shivery shadows Of boughs into your bosoms, And a pale silvery star Between burnt clouds of gold. ... Little lowly rivers, How sad your spirit shimmers! All the land's rainy loneliness Is running in your flow; While farm-lights faintly quiver And brown hills freeze about you And the music of the sheep-bells Falls silent in the fold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MEDITATION ON A JUNE EVENING by CONRAD AIKEN YOUNG BLOOD by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET THE EXECUTIVE by DAVID IGNATOW DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE TEMPTRESS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON TUNK (A LECTURE ON MODERN EDUCATION) by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON |