DARKNESS comes out of the
earth
And swallows dip into the pallor of the
west;
From the hay
comes the clamour of children’s
mirth;
Wanes the old
palimpsest.
The night-stock oozes
scent,
And a moon-blue moth goes flittering by:
All that the worldly day has
meant
Wastes like a lie.
The children have forsaken their
play;
A
single star in a veil of light
Glimmers: litter of day
Is gone from
sight.