Tis evening now the sun descends In golden glory down the sky The city's murmur softly blends With zephyrs breathing gently by And yet it seems a dreary [morn] A dark October [morn] to me And black the piles of rainclouds [borne] Athwart heaven's stormy canopy. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A FLORIDA GHOST by SIDNEY LANIER SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ALBERT SCHIRDING by EDGAR LEE MASTERS FRAGMENT, ON THE BACK OF THE POET'S MS. OF CANTO I OF 'DON JUAN' by GEORGE GORDON BYRON BALLAD OF THE GOODLY FERE by EZRA POUND SONNET: 67 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE THE IMMORTALITY OF LOVE by ROBERT SOUTHEY THE THIRD OF FEBRUARY, 1852 by ALFRED TENNYSON |