Two hundred strong they pour'd into the field, A gentle host, for one brief night's repose Before the market, for their doom was seal'd; They left their pasture ere the morn arose. I listen'd, while that multitudinous sound Peal'd from the highway through the twilight air, A cry for light, while all was dark around, A throng of voices like a people's prayer; Slow broke the dawn; the flock went plodding on Into the distance, some at once to bleed, Some to be scatter'd wide on moor and mead. But while I sigh'd to think that all were gone, A little lark, their field-mate of the night, Saw them from heaven and sang them out of sight. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...NO COMING TO GOD WITHOUT CHRIST by ROBERT HERRICK THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: MARCH by EDMUND SPENSER MY BEAUTIFUL LADY by THOMAS WOOLNER THE ROSE I GREW by JULIA S. ANDERSON AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD MEARY WEDDED by WILLIAM BARNES DESPISED AND REJECTED by KATHARINE LEE BATES THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: DEATH-IN-LIFE by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |