WHEN meadows are grey with the morn In the dusk of the woods it is night: The oak and the birch and the pine War with the glimmer of light. Dryads brown as the leaf Move in the gloom of the glade; When meadows are grey with the morn Dim night in the wood has delayed. The cocks that crow to the land Are faint and hollow and shrill: Dryads brown as the leaf Whisper, and hide, and are still. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A SHROPSHIRE LAD: 32 by ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN THE FEMALE CONVICT by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON THE PERSIANS (PERSAE): THE BATTLE OF SALAMIS by AESCHYLUS THE GOOD SHEPHERD WITH THE KID by MATTHEW ARNOLD DAWN AT LEXINGTON by KATHARINE LEE BATES |