Our days of gray on Loma by the sea Are like gulls' pinions spread and poised, at rest Upon the wind; are like silk scarfs caressed By young girls' throats that flutter ceaselessly. Our days of gray are soft days. They can be As tranquil as the mated wood dove's breast; And they can make of North, South, East and West And dawn and noon and night monotony: A sameness of shot silver gause -- a thrill Diffused across the heart of life and lost Between the sun and sea-floor. This bare hill Stands wrapped in thoughts of old rains, drawn rains tossed On fragments of dun clouds; stands smothered, still . . . A rock of Time's chiaroscure mists have mossed. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE'S SECRET, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE FAMILIAR EPISTLE TO A LITTLE BOY by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM A TRIBUTE TO WILL ROGERS AND WILEY POST by ROSETTA THORSON BEACHLER THE LOVE SONNETS OF PROTEUS: 114. A LATER DEDICATION by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT HINC LACHRIMAE; OR THE AUTHOR TO AURORA: 45 by WILLIAM BOSWORTH |