Sitting here I ponder Things thou dost not know, For I often wander In the long ago— Dreaming of the morning, As the day doth close Sets the sun in beauty Even as it rose. Sacred is the story Of the passing sun Lining clouds with glory When its course is run, Lending from its splendor As it sinks from sight, Veiling the unspoken With the shades of night. Still all unforgotten Is the dawn of day, And the rising glory That hath passed away. So I sit and ponder Things thou dost not know 'Mid the wondrous beauty Of the afterglow. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A DAY IN BED by KATHERINE MANSFIELD PARTING LOVERS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING APOLLO by THOMAS HOLLEY CHIVERS THE LOVELINESS OF LOVE by GEORGE DARLEY AN EPIGRAM ON SCOLDING by JONATHAN SWIFT MAPLE LEAVES by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH |