University of Virginia Library


78

XX

[The roadside lined with ragweed, the sharp hills]

The roadside lined with ragweed, the sharp hills
Standing against the glow of eve, the patch
Of rough white oats 'mongst darkling granite knolls,
The ferny coverts where the adders hatch,
The hollow that the northern sea upfills,
The seagull wheeling by with strange, sad calls,
All these, this evening, weary me. Full fain
Would I turn up the little elm tree way
And under the last elm tree, once again
Stretch myself with my head among the grass;
So lying, tyne the memories of day
And let my loosed, insatiate being pass
Into the blackbird's song of summer ease,
Or, with the white moon, rise in spirit from the trees.