TREE-LEAVES labour up and down, And through them the fainting light Succumbs to the crawl of night. Outside in the road the telegraph wire To the town from the darkening land Intones to travellers like a spectral lyre Swept by a spectral hand. A car comes up, with lamps full-glare, That flash upon a tree: It has nothing to do with me, And whangs along in a world of its own, Leaving a blacker air; And mute by the gate I stand again alone, And nobody pulls up there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WISDOM COMETH WITH THE YEARS by COUNTEE CULLEN I'VE NOTHING TO OFFER by DAVID IGNATOW NEW LOVE AND OLD by SARA TEASDALE AN IMPRESSION by RICHARD EUGENE BURTON THE DISAPPOINTED DEMON by PATRICK REGINALD CHALMERS |