The world seems smaller grown; one's view around Has not the reaches that it had by day, When shone the sun which clearly did portray The true outline of things. Save for the sound Of distant wheels upon the frozen ground; Or that of boys who linger late at play; Or cold night winds that blow from yonder bay— All's silent here:—o'erhead is God's profound. How kind thy call to rest! Out through the trees Home-lights flare forth; inside are families— Their day's work done—within the ingle's glow; But there are those who dread the soft night-fall, Who vigils keep where lights burn dim and low, And where, ere morn, may come the strange death-call. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DAFFODILS by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE I AM NOT YOURS by SARA TEASDALE THE ANGELS OF BUENA VISTA by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER SYMPHONY IN YELLOW by OSCAR WILDE THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD: TRANSLATION by CAIUS PEDO ALBINOVANUS EXALTATION by HILDA WHILT ARCHER THE SUN IS DOWN by JOANNA BAILLIE SONNETS OF MANHOOD: SONNET 24. BALCOMBE FOREST by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) |