The vast and solemn company of clouds
Around the Sun's death, lit, incarnadined,
Cool into ashy wan; as Night enshrouds
The level pasture, creeping up behind
Through voiceless vales, o'er lawn and purpled hill
And hazéd mead, her mystery to fulfil.
Cows low from far-off farms; the loitering wind
Sighs in the hedge, you hear it if you will,--
Tho' all the wood, alive atop with wings
Lifting and sinking through the leafy nooks,
Seethes with the clamour of a thousand rooks.
Now every sound at length is hush'd away.
These few are sacred moments. One more Day
Drops in the shadowy gulf of bygone things.
Company of clouds! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
The description of that sad and nostalgic sense of twilight is so wonderfully captured in this sonnet.
Through voiceless vales, o'er lawn and purpled hill And hazéd mead, her mystery to fulfil. Cows low from far-off farms; the loitering wind Sighs in the hedge, you hear it if you will, --What most beautiful true poetry this is!
Excellent poem. These few are sacred moments. One more Day Drops in the shadowy gulf of bygone things.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The loitering wind sighs in the hedge Fantastic conceptualization.