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The Flight Of The Crows

Rating: 2.7

The autumn afternoon is dying o'er
The quiet western valley where I lie
Beneath the maples on the river shore,
Where tinted leaves, blue waters and fair sky
Environ all; and far above some birds are flying by

To seek their evening haven in the breast
And calm embrace of silence, while they sing
Te Deums to the night, invoking rest
For busy chirping voice and tired wing--

And in the hush of sleeping trees their sleeping cradles swing.
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Dr Antony Theodore 07 November 2018

Vain dreams! Day hides with closing wings her charms, And all is cradled in repose, save where Yon band of black, belated crows still frets the evening air. a beautiful poem indeed.. tony

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