Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE EVENING OF THE YEAR by MATHILDE BLIND

First Line: WAN MISTS ENWRAP THE STILL-BORN DAY
Last Line: IT IS THE EVENING OF THE YEAR.
Subject(s): TIME;
WAN mists enwrap the still-born day;
The harebell withers on the heath;
And all the moorland seems to breathe
The hectic beauty of decay.
Within the open grave of May
Dishevelled trees drop wreath on wreath;
Wind-wrung and ravelled underneath
Waste leaves choke up the woodland way.

The grief of many partings near
Wails like an echo in the wind:
The days of love lie far behind,
The days of loss lie shuddering near.
Life's morning-glory who shall bind?
It is the evening of the year.




Home: PoetryExplorer.net