LONELY o' nights is yonder vane; But lonelier I than Chanticleer, The sleepless bellman, still apeer For strutting cock and dusty hen. My ghost (mortal I dead this night) Whips bat-like through crooked orchard trees, Old cronies once; now alien these I loved. Moon's blurry lantern light Half veils unveiling fanciful Long barns, grey stacks; those all I knew Now know not me. A wail, ghost too, Flutters unechoed over all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...REINFORCEMENTS by MARIANNE MOORE MIDNIGHT ON THE GREAT WESTERN by THOMAS HARDY THE STORY OF AUGUSTUS WHO WOULD NOT HAVE ANY SOUP by HEINRICH HOFFMANN TO MY FIRST LOVE, MY MOTHER by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI EPILOGUE TO LESSING'S LAOCOON by MATTHEW ARNOLD SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 43. ONE CHANCE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |