In The Meadows Of The Sky

When the great sower, Night,
Lets down his sable bars,
He goes into his endless fields
To plant his seed, the stars.

And then the wintry Dawn
Comes with her icy hand,
And blights with snowy clouds the flowers
In that wide, heavenly land.

by Charles Hanson Towne

Other poems of CHARLES HANSON TOWNE (106)

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