As if the sun had trodden down the sky, Until no more it holds living air, but only humid vapour, Heat pressing upon earth with irresistible langour, Turns all the solid forest into half-liquid smudge. The heavy clouds like cargo-boats strain slowly against its current; And the flickering of the haze is like the thunder of ten thousand paddles Against the heavy wall of the horizon, pale-blue and utterly windless, Whereon the sun hangs motionless, a brassy disc of flame. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 10 by EZRA POUND HAWORTH CHURCHYARD by MATTHEW ARNOLD THE OLD MAN'S WISH by WALTER POPE THE DEATH OF THE OLD YEAR by ALFRED TENNYSON TO THE MISS WEBSTERS, WITH DR. AIKIN'S WISH by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD APPLE SAUCE! by EDITH GRACE BERKNESS |