Shapes and Shadows — Dusk in the Woods

DUSK IN THE WOODS.

Three miles of hill it is; and I Came through the woods that waited, dumb, For the cool _Summer_ dusk to come;

And lingered there to watch the sky Up which the gradual sunset clomb.

A tree-toad quavered in a tree;

And then a sudden whip-poor-will Called overhead, so wildly shrill, The startled woodland seemed to see How very lone it was and still.

Then through dark boughs its stealthy flight An owl took; and, at sleepy strife, The cricket turned its fairy fife;

And through the dead leaves, in the night, Soft rustlings stirred of unseen life.

And in the punk-wood everywhere The inserts ticked, or bored below The rotted bark; and, glow on glow, The gleaming fireflies here and there Lit up their Jack-o'-lantern show.

I heard a vesper-sparrow sing, Withdrawn, it seemed, into the far Slow sunset's tranquil cinnabar;

The sunset, softly smouldering Behind gaunt trunks, with its one star.

A dog barked; and down ways, that gleamed, Through dew and clover faint the noise Of cow-bells moved.

And then a voice, That sang a-milking, so it seemed, Made glad my heart as some glad boy's. And then the lane; and full in view A farmhouse with a rose-grown gate, And honeysuckle paths, await For night's white moon and love and you-- These are the things that made me late.

AT THE FERRY.