Tall bean poles ribbed with dark the gold-pale afterglow.

The boy looked up: here was another land!

Mountain and farm with mystic beauty flared

Where Eben stared.

Stooping, he lifted with a furtive smile

Two splintered sticks, and spliced them. Nevermore

His spirit would go beastwise to his chore

Blinded, for even while

He stooped to the old task, sudden in the sunset’s pile

His radiant Herdsman swung a fiery door,