The yellow dusk winds round the city wall; The crows are drawn to nest, Silently down the west They hasten home, and from the branches call. A woman sits and weaves with fingers deft Her story of the flower-lit stream, Threading the jasper gauze in dream, Till like faint smoke it dies; and she, bereft, Recalls the parting words that died Under the casement some far eventide, And stays the disappointed loom, While from the little lonely room Into the lonely night she peers, And, like the rain, unheeded fall her tears. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WORN WEDDING-RING by WILLIAM COX BENNETT JONAH'S SONG, FR. MOBY DICK by HERMAN MELVILLE TO A CAT by ALGERNON CHARLES SWINBURNE IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 54 by ALFRED TENNYSON ENIGMA. TO THE LADIES by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD WALKING HOME AT NIGHT; HUSBAND TO WIFE by WILLIAM BARNES CLIO, NINE ECLOGUES IN HONOUR OF NINE VIRTUES: 9. OF HUMILITY by WILLIAM BASSE |