The day is ending, <br />The night is descending; <br />The marsh is frozen, <br />The river dead. <br /> <br />Through clouds like ashes <br />The red sun flashes <br />On village windows <br />That glimmer red. <br /> <br />The snow recommences; <br />The buried fences <br />Mark no longer <br />The road o'er the plain; <br /> <br />While through the meadows, <br />Like fearful shadows, <br />Slowly passes <br />A funeral train. <br /> <br />The bell is pealing, <br />And every feeling <br />Within me responds <br />To the dismal knell; <br /> <br />Shadows are trailing, <br />My heart is bewailing <br />And tolling within <br />Like a funeral bell.<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/afternoon-in-february/
