Classic and Contemporary Poetry
A TWILIGHT IN MIDDLE MARCH, by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE Poet's Biography First Line: Within the oak a throb of pigeon wings Last Line: From little knowledge where great sorrows brood. Subject(s): Dusk; March (month) | ||||||||
WITHIN the oak a throb of pigeon wings Fell silent, and grey twilight hushed the fold, And spiders' hammocks swung on half-oped things That shook like foreigners upon our cold. A gipsy lit a fire and made a sound Of moving tins, and from an oblong moon The river seemed to gush across the ground To the cracked metre of a marching tune. And then three syllables of melody Dropped from a blackbird's flute, and died apart Far in the dewy dark. No more but three, Yet sweeter music never touched a heart Neath the blue domes of London. Flute and reed, Suggesting feelings of the solitude When will was all the Delphi I would heed, Lost like a wind within a summer wood From little knowledge where great sorrows brood. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AND AGAIN, MARCH IS ALMOST HERE by JOHN ASHBERY MARCH: A BIRTHDAY POEM by JOHN UPDIKE MARCH by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS IN EARLIEST SPRING by WILLIAM DEAN HOWELLS THE SHEPHEARDES CALENDER: MARCH by EDMUND SPENSER TO MY SISTER by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH WRITTEN IN MARCH by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH EVENING CLOUDS by FRANCIS LEDWIDGE |
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