Now with the dusk the world comes home to me. Through the long day it has been a stranger, As a child who in the morning goes to tasks its mother may not understand. The work of a tree is mysterious and the business of the grass I can not fathom; The wind passes swiftly, intent on a distant mission, And the birds sing unintelligible songs. As the sun sinks, long shadows of the trees fall on me As the arms of weary children seeking rest. The leaves are whispering that which in the day may not be spoken, And the wind, muted to murmurs, tells me all that I would ask. I think there is no secret undisclosed nor mystery unrevealed When with the dusk the world comes home to me. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...APPROACH OF WINTER by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS VISIONS: 4. A ROSE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) LINES WRITTEN IN THE ALBUM AT ELBINGERODE, IN HARTZ FOREST by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR by JAMES DAVID CORROTHERS A CHRISTMAS GHOST-STORY; CHRISTMAS-EVE 1899 by THOMAS HARDY THE CHURCH FLOORE by GEORGE HERBERT |