A DEEP, delicious hush in earth and sky -- A gracious lull -- since, from its wakening, The morn has been a feverish, restless thing In which the pulse of Summer ran too high And riotous, as though its heart went nigh To bursting with delights past uttering: Now, as an o'erjoyed child may cease to sing All falteringly at play, with drowsy eye Draining the pictures of a fairy tale To brim his dreams with -- there comes o'er the day A loathful silence, wherein all sounds fail Like loitering tones of some faint roundelay . . . No wakeful effort longer may avail -- The wand waves, and the dozer sinks away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AT THE ZOO IN SPAIN by CLARENCE MAJOR THE CARPENTER'S SON by SARA TEASDALE THE LAST WORD by MATTHEW ARNOLD EPIGRAM: 118. ON GUT by BEN JONSON ON THE SLAIN AT CHICKAMAUGA by HERMAN MELVILLE |