Sun-light recedes on the mountains, in long gold shafts, Like the falling pillars of a temple. Then singing silence almost too nimble for ears: The mountain-tenors fling their broad voices Into the blue hall of the sky, And through a rigid column of these voices Night dumbly walks. Night, crushing sound between his fingers Until it forms a lightly frozen couch On which he dreams. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DREAM LIFE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON ON BEING QUIZZED BY BALIEV by LEONARD BACON (1887-1954) BRUCE: HOW AYMER DE VALENCE, AND JOHN OF LORN CHASED THE BRUCE ... by JOHN BARBOUR PAULO POST ORDINATIONEM by JOSEPH BEAUMONT THE AGNOSTIC by MATHILDE BLIND LINES SUGGESTED BY A LATE OCCURRENCE by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD |