V

Now from the meadow floods the wild duck clamours,

Now the wood pigeon wings a rapid flight,

Now the homeward rookery follows up its vanguard,

And the valley mists are curling up the hills.

Three short songs gives the clear-voiced throstle,

Sweetening the twilight ere he fills the nest;

While the little bird upon the leafless branches

Tweets to its mate a tiny loving note.

Deeper the stillness hangs on every motion;

Calmer the silence follows every call;

Now all is quiet save the roosting pheasant,

The bell-wether's tinkle and the watch-dog's bark.

Softly shine the lights from the silent kindling homestead,

Stars of the hearth to the shepherd in the fold;

Springs of desire to the traveller on the roadway;

Ever breathing incense to the ever-blessing sky!