The twitt’ring swallow glides along the ground,
While the more cautious pigeon seeks the eaves.
The geese that o’er the green so stately stalked,
Take flight toward the west with heavy wing,
And scream a welcome to the coming rain.
The cattle from the hills come early home,
And from the fallow ground the lab’rer turns,
Long ere the hour of sunset, with an eye
That reads the secrets of the heavens as well
As though it opened first in Chaldea’s land.