Poems (Hardy)/Evening on the Oakland hills
EVENING ON THE OAKLAND HILLS
NOW from the dusk that visits field and hill
I hear the tumult of the mist-veiled town,
An evening murmur of repose sink down,
Till in the peace of night the world is still.
One bird sings on with reminiscent trill
Of daylight lyrics on the leafy crown
Of thickets deep, where lies, 'mid shadows brown,
His little home, vine-hid from every ill.
Half-heard, the iron causeway's clangor holds
In check the movement of the memory,
And life seems all a picture, far and faint.
The old sea pauses, far away the folds
Of his gray vesture flings in foam-bands free,
Curves round the crags, and lies in lulled restraint.
I hear the tumult of the mist-veiled town,
An evening murmur of repose sink down,
Till in the peace of night the world is still.
One bird sings on with reminiscent trill
Of daylight lyrics on the leafy crown
Of thickets deep, where lies, 'mid shadows brown,
His little home, vine-hid from every ill.
Half-heard, the iron causeway's clangor holds
In check the movement of the memory,
And life seems all a picture, far and faint.
The old sea pauses, far away the folds
Of his gray vesture flings in foam-bands free,
Curves round the crags, and lies in lulled restraint.