Winter Nightfall
Robert Bridges
1844 to 1930
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The day begins to droop,—
Its course done:
But nothing tells the place
Of the sun.
The hazy darkness deepens,
And up the
You may hear, but cannot see,
The homing wain.
An engine pants and hums
In the farm by:
Its lowering smoke is lost
In the sky.
The soaking branches drip,
And all night
The dropping will not cease
In the avenue.
tall man there in the house
Must keep chair:
He knows he will never again
Breathe spring air:
His heart is worn with work;
is giddy and sick
If he rise to go far
As the nearest rick:
He thinks of morn of life,
His hale, strong years;
And as he may the night
Of darkness and tears.