 | Songs and poems (1909) |  |
199
VESPER
The wind of evening stealeth hushfully
Where the high poplar trees gleam silver-grey:
Born of the quiet hour, the sleep o' the day,
Old memories throng upon me mournfully.
Where the high poplar trees gleam silver-grey:
Born of the quiet hour, the sleep o' the day,
Old memories throng upon me mournfully.
Against the paling width of the clear sky
The dark-green hill inclines its tree-clad height;
The air is full of vaporous, tender light,
The solitude is broken by no cry.
The dark-green hill inclines its tree-clad height;
The air is full of vaporous, tender light,
The solitude is broken by no cry.
The green-gold disc of the moon doth slowly rise
Out of the dusk whence sounds the Angelus;
O memories of hours long lost to us!
Oh, bitterness of unavailing sighs!
Out of the dusk whence sounds the Angelus;
O memories of hours long lost to us!
Oh, bitterness of unavailing sighs!
| Songs and poems (1909) | |