Guy's Cliffe at Night
Heavily plumed the stately elm-tree hung,
— The sentinel fir stood straight.
A star went in and out the boughs among.
On the live air of evening there was flung
— The scent of the tall lily, white and great,
— The garden's altar candle, shining late!
Far far away I heard a distant bell,
Faint — and again more loud —
The waters of the dim weir rose and fell.
All other things were silent. Who can tell
The murmur of the wind that fell and rose?
And whence he came — whither he went — who knows?
— The sentinel fir stood straight.
A star went in and out the boughs among.
On the live air of evening there was flung
— The scent of the tall lily, white and great,
— The garden's altar candle, shining late!
Far far away I heard a distant bell,
Faint — and again more loud —
The waters of the dim weir rose and fell.
All other things were silent. Who can tell
The murmur of the wind that fell and rose?
And whence he came — whither he went — who knows?
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