Girt with great garths of shadow Dim meadows fade in grey: No moon lightens the gloaming, The meadows know no day: But pale shapes shifting From dusk to dusk, or lifting Frail wings in flight, go drifting Adown each flowerless way. These phantom-dreams in shadow Were once in wild-rose flame; Each wore a star of glory, Each had a loved sweet name: Now they are nameless, knowing Nor star nor flame, but going Whither they know not, flowing Waves without wind or aim. But later through the gloaming The Midnight-Shepherd cries: The trooping shadows follow Making a wind of sighs: The fold is hollow and black; No pathway thence, no track; No dream ever comes back Beneath those silent skies. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIDDLING WOOD by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET POETA FIT, NON NASCITUR by CHARLES LUTWIDGE DODGSON TO A PINE TREE by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL VERSES ON SEEING THE SPEAKER ASLEEP IN HIS CHAIR by WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED AMORETTI: 75 by EDMUND SPENSER |