Tower of Ivory/The Hills of Cleeve
THE HILLS OF CLEEVE
I heard the fairies keening on the uplands yestereve
When scarce the vagrant grey of dusk was done,
When sheep were calling darkly down the shadow hills of Cleeve
And far below the village candles shone.
I heard the hare-bells knelling in the wet wind off the wold,
I heard the clouds go creeping down the hill,
I heard the dew soft falling from the last long rifts of gold,
I heard how singingly the stars were still.
I heard the fairies keening on the uplands all night long,
A-weeping soft and sadly for their queen;
"She's vanished like the echo of her own forlorn sweet song,
She's turned our twilight dance to twilight teen.
"Oh, dreams are only dim desires, and songs are only tunes,
The flowers deck the graves of other years,
The Springs are fleeting children of a thousand fleeting Junes,
And only old and endless are our tears."