EVENING DIM grows the wood; the amber evening tints Merge into opal skies and stars just seen; Down vistas gloomed and winding there are hints Of elves and gnomes along the mosses green. MIDNIGHT A holy song the thrush has distant-sung; The treetops murmur like some dreaming sea; Hark! far away a silvern bell has rung Twelve strokes, slow tolled, that faint and fade from me. MORNING A shaft of gold upon my upturned face As fleeting and as shy as any fawn; Sweet odors, stirring winds and forms of grace; Now tell me, is this heaven, or is it dawn? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE TRENCHES by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE HEMLOCK by EMILY DICKINSON RONDEL by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE SPRING [IN WAR-TIME] by HENRY TIMROD PRAIRIE MUSIC by NELLIE COOLEY ALDER THE ELDER'S WARNING; A LAY OF THE CONVOCATION by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |