Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/192

 EE this house, how dark it is Beneath its vast-boughed trees! Not one trembling leaflet cries To that Watcher in the skies — "Remove, remove thy searching gaze, Innocent, of heaven's ways, Brood not. Moon, so wildly bright, On secrets hidden from sight."

"Secrets," sighs the night-wind, "Vacancy is all I find; Every keyhole I have made Wails a summons, faint and sad, No voice ever answers me,
 * Only vacancy."

"Once, once ..." the cricket shrills, And far and near the quiet fills With its tiny voice, and then
 * Hush falls again.

Mute shadows creeping slow Mark how the hours go. Every stone is mouldering slow. And the least winds that blow