 | The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow |  |
AFTERNOON IN FEBRUARY.
The day is ending,
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.
The night is descending;
The marsh is frozen,
The river dead.
Through clouds like ashes
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.
The red sun flashes
On village windows
That glimmer red.
The snow recommences;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o'er the plain;
The buried fences
Mark no longer
The road o'er the plain;
224
While through the meadows,
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.
Like fearful shadows,
Slowly passes
A funeral train.
The bell is pealing,
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;
And every feeling
Within me responds
To the dismal knell;
Shadows are trailing,
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.
My heart is bewailing
And tolling within
Like a funeral bell.
| The poetical works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow | |