THE prospect is bare and white, And the air is crisp and chill; While the ebon wings of night Are spread on the distant hill. The roar of the stormy sea Seem the dirges shrill and sharp That winter plays on the tree -- His wild AEolian harp. In the pool that darkly creeps In ripples before the gale, A star like a lily sleeps And wiggles its silver tail. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PETRIFIED FERN by MARY LYDIA BOLLES BRANCH THE RAILWAY TRAIN by EMILY DICKINSON GOD EVERYWHERE by ABRAHAM IBN EZRA THE EQUESTRIAN STATUE OF WASHINGTON by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER LINES ADDRESSED TO A YOUNG LADY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON BLANK MISGIVINGS OF A CREATURE MOVING ABOUT IN WORLDS NOT REALIZED: 2 by ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH |