| LAST night a sword-light in the sky | |
| Flashed a swift terror on the dark. | |
| In that sharp light the fields did lie | |
| Naked and stone-like; each tree stood | |
| Like a tranced woman, bound and stark. | 5 |
| Far off the wood | |
| With darkness ridged the riven dark. | |
| |
| And cows astonished stared with fear, | |
| And sheep crept to the knees of cows, | |
| And conies to their burrows slid, | 10 |
| And rooks were still in rigid boughs, | |
| And all things else were still or hid. | |
| From all the wood | |
| Came but the owl's hoot, ghostly, clear. | |
| |
| In that cold trance the earth was held | 15 |
| It seemed an age, or time was nought. | |
| Sure never from that stone-like field | |
| Sprang golden corn, nor from those chill | |
| Grey granite trees was music wrought. | |
| In all the wood | 20 |
| Even the tall poplar hung stone still. | |
| |
| It seemed an age, or time was none... | |
| Slowly the earth heaved out of sleep | |
| And shivered, and the trees of stone | |
| Bent and sighed in the gusty wind, | 25 |
| And rain swept as birds flocking sweep. | |
| Far off the wood | |
| Rolled the slow thunders on the wind. | |
| |
| From all the wood came no brave bird, | |
| No song broke through the close-fall'n night, | 30 |
| Nor any sound from cowering herd: | |
| Only a dog's long lonely howl | |
| When from the window poured pale light. | |
| And from the wood | |
| The hoot came ghostly of the owl. | 35 |
