A bird ran up the onyx steps of night, Seeking the moon upon her silver throne; But insolent stars confused him with their light And left him in the friendless skies, alone. He watched the winds, disheveled and awry, Hurling the clouds, like pillows from their beds; He saw the mountain peaks that nudged the sky, Take off the wreaths of sunset from their heads. He heard the storms, a troupe of headstrong boys, Locked up as punishment for petulant tears, Beat on the ebony doors with such a noise, That all the angels had to hold their ears. Frightened, he left the halls of thundering sound For a less dazzling height, a lowlier dream; And, perching on a watery bough, he found The moon, her white laugh rippling from the stream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SLAVE AUCTION by FRANCES ELLEN WATKINS HARPER AUTUMN AND SPRING by JULIA COOLEY ALTROCCHI THE WORLD AND THE QUIETEST by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE FASHION by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE LAST MAN: A RUFFIAN by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES TO HARRY ELLIS WOOLDRIDGE by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES THE GODDESS IN THE WOOD by RUPERT BROOKE |