The sky through the leaves of the bracken, Tenderly, pallidly blue, Nothing but sky as I lie on the mountain-top. Hark! for the wind as it blew, Rustling the tufts of my bracken above me, Brought from below Into the silence the sound of the water. Hark! for the oxen low, Sheep are bleating, a dog Barks, at a farm in the vale: Blue, through the bracken, softly enveloping, Silence, a veil. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOW THE CUMBERLAND WENT DOWN [MARCH 8, 1862] by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL SHADOWS by VICTOR GUSTAVE PLARR CHRIST THE CONSOLER by HENRY WILLIAMS BAKER MISERY: SORDID SCENE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON THAT'S VERMONT by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY TALE: 4. PROCRASTINATION by GEORGE CRABBE |