He hears, beyond the grey bent's silken waves,
The foam-embroidered waters ever cast
On sighing sands and into echoing caves.
And from the west, where the last sunset glow
Still lingers on the border hills afar,
Come pastoral sounds, attenuate and low,
Thence where the night shall bring, 'neath cloud and star,
Silence to yearn o'er folk worn with day's strife,
Lost in blank sleep to hope, regret, death, life.

[_An alternative ending_:

While from the West comes murmuring earthly noise,
Sweet, slumberous, attenuate and afar;
Sad sunglows in the border mountains poise,
There where he knows to-night, mid cloud and star,
Silence shall yearn o'er folk worn out with strife,
Lost in blank sleep to hope, regret, death, life.]




MISCELLANEOUS POEMS




I.