GRAY sky; gray lane; A flaw of rain; Loud crows midway in air, That go, and leave it bare. But whence, By the torn fence, This hushed thing with shape of flame? And whither came, This yellow gust blown down the grass Of Hallowmas? Holds the old Year, remembering, A moment of last spring? Or, far beyond this weather vext, A moment of the next? Holds he the twain in one, The April gone, the April not begun? -- In these dim stalks, wind-lapped and bright, Driven all one way like candlelight? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET (ON RECEIVING A LETTER INFORMING ME OF THE BIRTH OF A SON) by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE ARSENAL AT SPRINGFIELD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE PRINCESS: SONG by ALFRED TENNYSON AGAINST IDLENESS AND MISCHIEF by ISAAC WATTS WHIM ALLEY by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. THE WORKING MAN'S SONG by JOHN STUART BLACKIE INACCESSIBILITY IN THE BATTLEFIELD by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |