NIGHT-SOUNDS
Faintly through my window come
Sounds of things unheard by day,
Things that nightly speak and play,
But by day again go dumb.
Uncouth owls, with shuddering cry,
Flap great wings in horrid grief
Flap and swoop on journeys brief,
Hooting long and miserably.
Lurching in unsteady flight
Comes a lean bat, singing shrill,
Stumbles on my window sill,
And staggers off into the night.
Wild duck, waking on the marsh,
Din against my sleepy senses;
Like the wind on creaking fences
Comes their croaking, faint and harsh.
There’s a little bush I hear
Muttering, frightened, half-asleep;
Now a leafy voice, more deep,
Rustles vague comfort, soothes its fear.
Water flows not as by day.
A new tone through its voice has crept.
Streams that in daylight laughed and leapt
And had humorous things to say,
Speak so gravely now, and mutter
Of things secret, scarcely guessed,
Winds’ and Waters’ veiled unrest,
Griefs too big for man to utter.
Of the days before man came
The days when man shall be no more,
And Earth again be ruled by Four,
Air and Water, Earth and Flame.
Now a sudden silence falls;
Until like rocking, silver boats
Come the curlew’s ripply notes
How far the curious music calls!
And sweet twitters whisper clearly
From the tree tops dimly seen
Piping from the shadowy green
That the dawn is here, or nearly.