BRONZE noonlight domes the dim blue gloom Where many-antlered oaks immure A hush, a cool -- the "cynosure Of neighbouring eyes," that tired with bloom And blaze of poppied yellowing swath, And jewelled meadows' pomp and state, Delight to spy the glimmering gate Far down the oakwood's bridle-path. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SPARROW by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR AS I SIT WRITING HERE by WALT WHITMAN ON THE STATUE OF AN ANGEL, BY BIENAIME by WASHINGTON ALLSTON POEM FOR PICTURE: TO A DRAWING OF A HORSE BY GEORGIO DI CHIRICO by FRANK ANKENBRAND JR. TWO SONNETS FROM NEW YORK: QUESTIONS by ADELAIDE NICHOLS BAKER LOVE'S BREATH by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON IN VINCULIS; SONNETS WRITTEN IN AN IRISH PRISON: A DREAM OF GOOD by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT |