The sunset sky burns deep and red beyond The massy oakwoods as they fade into That opaque green which is night's very hue, So dark, so full of quiet. Every frond And mighty verdure-vested branch hath donned Dim raiment of great shadow. 'Tis a view, Quick with some sovran charm, to be by you Remembered, and perpetually re-conned. The perfect silence, the vast lonesomeness, The cool, the glow, the breath of evening, Scarce tinged with a faint scent of blossomed spring, Scarce thrilled with a vague sense of something sad, Are they not sweet, and shall you not confess That such dear pathos maketh almost glad? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPIGRAM: HERO AND LEANDER by JOHN DONNE ON BURNING A DULL POEM; WRITTEN IN 1729 by JONATHAN SWIFT THE MEADOW STREAM by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THEIR VERY MEMORY by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN TO WAR by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE GORMFLAITH'S SONG, FR. KING LEAR'S WIFE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY KITTY'S SUMMERING by HENRY CUYLER BUNNER PREFIXED TO THOMAS RAVENSCROFT'S 'DISCOURSE...' by THOMAS CAMPION |