A weeping willow sweeps the lake Of mid-night stars -- across its wake A scarlet maple sheds her name On golden sisters tinged with flame, And far away among the leaves A purple temple's pleated eaves Stand in the dusk alone, aloof: The rain walks softly on the roof. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE DAYS OF PRISMATIC COLOR by MARIANNE MOORE ON ENGLISH MONSIEUR by BEN JONSON RED HANRAHAN'S SONG ABOUT IRELAND by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS CHANCES OF REMEMBRANCE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN FIAMMETTA: SONNET. OF HIS LAST SIGHT OF FIAMMETTA by GIOVANNI BOCCACCIO |