How low the white, crescent moon Lies rocking, gently brooding, Crooning in the night. Where are the stars? The fickle little crystals, frozen calm, Seem to tinkle in the wind -- The gusts whip snow needles Biting down deserted ways -- The birch skeletons crackle knotty knuckles As they cast dancing shadows on the snow banks. The world's a hollowed ice-drum With echoes bounding brittle in Its amazing clarity of cold. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MARRIAGE VOW by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON A PRAYER FOR MY DAUGHTER by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS WILD ROSES AND SNOW by H. T. MACKENZIE BELL BUSINESS IS BUSINESS by BERTON BRALEY THE PSALM by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES COUNCIL by ELIZABETH BROWN (AMERICAN) OBSERVATIONS IN THE ART OF ENGLISH POESY: 29 by THOMAS CAMPION |