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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


EVENING by EDWARD DOWDEN

First Line: LIGHT EBBS FROM OFF THE EARTH; THE FIELDS ARE STRANGE
Last Line: CRY, SEA! IT IS THY HOUR; THOU ART ALONE.

LIGHT ebbsfrom off the Earth; the fields are strange,
Dusk, trackless, tenantless; now the mute sky
Resigns itself to Night and Memory,
And no wind will yon sunken clouds derange,
No glory enrapture them; from cot or grange
The rare voice ceases; one long-breathed sigh,
And steeped in summer sleep the world must lie;
All things are acquiescing in the change.
Hush! while the vaulted hollow of the night
Deepens, what voice is this the sea sends forth,
Disconsolate iterance, a passionless moan?
Ah! now the Day is gone, and tyrannous Light,
And the calm presence of fruit-bearing Earth;
Cry, Sea! it is thy hour; thou art alone.



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