We left in the cool hour, the green hour before the dawn,
And drove the frightened sheep before us up the hills To higher pasture, there to graze upon The wind-combed fields, and to lamb among the mountain daffodils.
Then on the peak that daily fol [...]
Ever the hawk will scour a likely field For little mice a-tremble in their fur.
Deep in the singing wood, dead leaves will shield A shattered body, and the brittle stir Of air exploring some small empty skull.
Lax in the spider's morning web, a fly H [...]