And grow less misty and more huge;
The grayness becomes less gray;
And, as it so becomes, the horizon
Erstwhile faint and indistinct,
Slowly as a line appears, not sharp,
But blended with both earth and sky.
A sleepy twitter from the birds, the first call
Of mate to mate; the faint, soft rustle
Of the leaves, the vapor rising from the earth—
All betoken the oncoming.