Afternoon In February

Afternoon In February

by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Afternoon In February

 

The day is ending,

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 snow recommences;

The buried fences

Mark no longer

The road o’er the plain;

 

While through the meadows,

Like fearful shadows,

Slowly passes

A funeral train.

 

The bell is pealing,

And every feeling

Within me responds

To the dismal knell;

 

Shadows are trailing,

My heart is bewailing

And tolling within

Like a funeral bell.

 

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