Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE HARVEST, by MARY MORGAN BUCKNER First Line: The lonesome house drove me outside Last Line: To one robbed by death and marriage. | ||||||||
The lonesome house drove me outside. In the darkness the blossoms gleamed -- Pale ghosts of their bright daytime selves, While the cold moon wallowed through clouds. A drear wind whispered to the trees Disturbing all the half-dead leaves, Making the iris tremble and shrink. From the nearby woods a mocking bird Shrilled a mad ecstatic deluge, As if to drown the babel sounds Released by the awful night hours. A whippoorwill's poignant calling, The ululation of a dog, The ghoulish barking of a fox, An owl's lonely shuddering voice. Riven by pangs of loneliness! Alone! a dreadful word that clings To one robbed by death and marriage. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COAT OF FIRE by EDITH SITWELL MY NOVEMBER GUEST by ROBERT FROST ODES I, 9. TO WINTER by QUINTUS HORATIUS FLACCUS HYMN ON SOLITUDE by JAMES THOMSON (1700-1748) WESTERN MORNING by WILLIMINA L. ARMSTRONG |
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