Sometimes at close of day As children leave their play, And dusk dips into dark; When winds sweet-scented blow Up from the past, for voices dear I hark; Then this comes soft and low: "Come in my child; for quenched is day's last spark." Once more my feet those dewy fields do roam, And through the gloaming shines the light of Home! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...PRECIOUS WORDS by EMILY DICKINSON EPITAPH (ON A COMMONPLACE PERSON WHO DIED IN BED) by AMY LEVY THANKS BE TO GOD by JANIE ALFORD THE FAIRY KING by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM MOONLIGHT by MARGUERITE ATTERBURY DANUBE AND THE EUXINE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN S. JAMES YE APOSTLE by JOSEPH BEAUMONT |