Quiet with amber light The pale enfolding afternoon; In sleep the slow leaves fall; Tranquil as misting tears or swoon, The pendent blue that bears No cloud except the daylight moon. Opal, a-drowse, and vast, The river takes its southward way; And southwards sweep the birds, Swift and mysterious and grey. . . . Do so the gusty dead Wing the warm air in troops to-day? Surely this peacefulness Of feathered fields of golden-rod, The wistful, songless trees, And asters clouding from the sod, Them, homing, lure from out The bleak infinitudes of God. Oh, surely all the south Our prayers and dear remembrance make Calls from the cold, blue tides Their wings to-day, and they forsake Their solemn ways for us, Remembering death and all the ache. And thou, so lately one -- Not all the new adventuring In starry realms can hold Thee from return. To-day thy wing, Pausing above my heart, Doth courage and assurance bring. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CAMELOPARD by HILAIRE BELLOC DEAD LEAVES by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON GLAMOUR by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON IMPELLED by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: WILLIAM AND EMILY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS WINTER GARDEN THEATRE by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |