THE bluest gray -- the grayest blue, Where golden, gleaming stars are set; A moon whose glorious yellow waves Make fair the rippled rivulet. Night has her curtain over all; The firs show dark against the sky; The only sound is in the song Of a late nightingale close by. The wooded walks, which seemed so sweet Seen in the morning's fairy light, Now, dim and shadowy, hold no charm Save the mysterious charm of night. One swallow stirs, the gold stars fade, In the cold sky a chill wind wakes; The gray clouds frighten out the morn, And through pale mist the new day breaks. Good-morn -- good-night -- which is the best? God grant some day that I may find Both true: good-morn to joy begun, Good-night to sorrows left behind. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVELIGHT by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON A BIRTHDAY SONG by SIDNEY LANIER BONNYBELL: THE BUTTERFLY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BONNYBELL: THE GRAY SPHEX by EDGAR LEE MASTERS BRUTUS AND ANTONY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |