Evening

Archibald Lampman (1861–1899)

FROM upland slopes I see the cows file by,

Lowing, great-chested, down the homeward trail,

By dusking fields and meadows shining pale

With moon-tipped dandelions; flickering high,

A peevish night-hawk in the western sky

Beats up into the lucent solitudes,

Or drops with griding wing; the stilly woods

Grow dark and deep, and gloom mysteriously.

Cool night-winds creep and whisper in mine ear;

The homely cricket gossips at my feet;

From far-off pools and wastes of reeds I hear

With ebb and change the chanting frogs break sweet

In full Pandean chorus; one by one

Shine out the stars, and the great night comes on.