UNDER the yew-tree's heavy weight The owls stand in their sullen fashions, Like Pagan gods of Pagan passions They dart their eyes and meditate. Unmoving they stare with living flame Until the end of the melancholy Hour sees the oblique sun set in folly, And darkness falls in shades of shame. Their aspect to the wise man teaches All that he needs, all he beseeches, Tumult and change and discontent; The man drunk of a shadow that passes Keeps always the imperishable scent That makes the wind change and the grasses. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE ON INDOLENCE by JOHN KEATS HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 7 by EZRA POUND ABRAHAM LINCOLN (1) by RICHARD HENRY STODDARD IF I GROW OLD by ETHEL BERRY ALLEN THE COLLEGE, 1917 by HAMILTON FISH ARMSTRONG |