Mild the mist upon the hill Telling not of storms tomorrow; No, the day has wept its fill, Spent its store of silent sorrow. O, I'm gone back to the days of youth, I am a child once more, And 'neath my father's sheltering roof And near the old hall door I watch this cloudy evening fall After a day of rain; Blue mists, sweet mists of summer pall The horizon's mountain chain. The damp stands on the long green grass As thick as morning's tears, And dreamy scents of fragrance pass That breathe of other years. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WHITE RABBIT by KAREN SWENSON THE IVY GREEN by CHARLES DICKENS EPICOENE; OR, THE SILENT WOMAN: FREEDOM IN DRESS by BEN JONSON TO LUCASTA, [ON] GOING BEYOND THE SEAS by RICHARD LOVELACE SONNET: 110 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE AMY WENTWORTH; FOR WILLIAM BRADFORD by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |