Page:Marlborough and other poems, Sorley, 1919.djvu/28

 IV

AUTUMN DAWN

this is morning. Would you think

That this was the morning, when the land

Is full of heavy eyes that blink

Half-opened, and the tall trees stand

Too tired to shake away the drops

Of passing night that cling around

Their branches and weigh down their tops:

And the grey sky leans on the ground?

The thrush sings once or twice, but stops

Affrighted by the silent sound.

The sheep, scarce moving, munches, moans.

The slow herd mumbles, thick with phlegm.

The grey road-mender, hacking stones,

Is now become as one of them.

Old mother Earth has rubbed her eyes

And stayed, so senseless, lying down.

Old mother is too tired to rise

And lay aside her grey nightgown,

And come with singing and with strength

In loud exuberance of day,

Swift-darting. She is tired at length,

Done up, past bearing, you would say. 10