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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
362
WHIPPOORWILL TIME
I
Let down the bars; drive in the cows:The west is barred with burning rose.
Unhitch the horses from the ploughs,
And from the cart the ox that lows,
And light the lamp within the house:—
The whippoorwill is calling,
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,”
Where the locust blooms are falling
On the hill;
The sunset's rose is dying,
And the whippoorwill is crying,
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will;”
Soft, now shrill,
The whippoorwill is crying,
“Whip-poor-will.”
II
Unloose the watch-dog from his chain:The first stars wink their drowsy eyes:
363
And where the shadow deepest lies
A lamp makes bright the kitchen pane:—
The whippoorwill is calling,
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,”
Where the berry-blooms are falling
On the rill;
The first faint stars are springing,
And the whippoorwill is singing,
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will;”
Softly still
The whippoorwill is singing,
“Whip-poor-will.”
III
The cows are milked: the cattle fed:The last far streaks of evening fade:
The farm-hand whistles in the shed,
And in the house the table 's laid,
Its lamp streams on the garden-bed:—
The whippoorwill is calling,
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,”
Where the dogwood blooms are falling
On the hill:
The afterglow is waning,
364
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will;”
Wild and shrill,
The whippoorwill 's complaining,
“Whip-poor-will.”
IV
The moon blooms out, a great white rose;The stars wheel onward towards the west;
The barnyard-cock wakes once and crows;
The farm is wrapped in peaceful rest;
The cricket chirrs; the firefly glows:—
The whippoorwill is calling,
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will,”
Where the bramble-blooms are falling
On the rill;
The moon her watch is keeping,
And the whippoorwill is weeping,
“Whip-poor-will, whip-poor-will:”
Lonely still,
The whippoorwill is weeping,
“Whip-poor-will.”
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |