The barking of a dog, or call

To cattle, sharply pealed,

Borne echoing from some wayside stall

Or barnyard far a-field;

Then all is silent, and the snow

Falls, settling soft and slow.

The evening deepens, and the gray

Folds closer earth and sky;

The world seems shrouded far away;

Its noises sleep, and I,

As secret as yon buried stream,

Plod dumbly on, and dream.

SUNSET

From this windy bridge at rest,

In some former curious hour,

We have watched the city's hue,

All along the orange west,

Cupola and pointed tower,

Darken into solid blue.

Tho' the biting north wind breaks

 Prev. P 55/70 next