THE Day is young, the Day is sweet, And light is her heart as the tread of her feet. The Day is weary, the Day is old: She has sunk into sleep through a tempest of gold. Sleep, tired Day! Thou shalt rise made new, All splendour and wonder and odour and dew. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BLIND GOD by ISAAC ROSENBERG THE BROKEN PITCHER by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE POSY RING by CLEMENT MAROT SING-SONG; A NURSERY RHYME BOOK: 45 by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI TO MY FIANCEE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS EPIGRAM by DECIMUS MAGNUS AUSONIUS AN EXPOSTULATION WITH LOVE by PHILIP AYRES THE DRUG-SHOP, OR, ENDYMION IN EDMONSTOUN by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET |