Iii

Eve has gone and Night follows, Every bush is now a ghost; Every tree looms Lofty large and sombre; All day's simple friendliness is lost.

See the poplars Black in blackness, In all their leaves there is no sigh. 'Neath that darkling Cedar who dare wander Now, or under the vast oak would lie!...

Till that tingling Silence broken Every clod renews its breath; Birds, leaves, grasses Heave as one, then sleep on Full of sweeter sleep and unlike death.