Now the bat circles on the breeze of eve, That creeps, in shuddering fits, along the wave, And trembles 'mid the woods, and through the cave Whose lonely sighs the wanderer deceive; For oft, when melancholy charms his mind, He thinks the Spirit of the rock he hears, Nor listens, but with sweetly-thrilling fears, To the low, mystic murmurs of the wind! Now the bat circles; and the twilight-dew Falls silent round, and, o'er the mountain-cliff, The gleaming wave and far-discovered skiff, Spreads the gray veil of soft, harmonious hue. So falls o'er grief the dew of pity's tear Dimming her lonely visions of despair. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CITY REVISITED by STEPHEN VINCENT BENET A MAN'S VOCATION IS NOBODY'S BUSINESS by JAMES GALVIN DREAM LIFE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON LET ME NOT HATE by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON AN EXPLANATION by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON A BIRTHDAY SONG by SIDNEY LANIER |