Duncan Campbell Scott (1862–1947)

PALLID saffron glows the broken stubble,

Brimmed with silver lie the ruts,

Purple the ploughed hill;

Down a sluice with break and bubble

Hollow falls the rill;

Falls and spreads and searches,

Where, beyond the wood,

Starts a group of silver birches,

Bursting into bud.

Under Venus sings the vesper sparrow,

Down a path of rosy gold

Floats the slender moon;

Ringing from the rounded barrow

Rolls the robin’s tune;

Lighter than the robin; hark!

Quivering silver-strong

From the field a hidden shore-lark

Shakes his sparkling song.

Now the dewy sounds begin to dwindle,

Dimmer grow the burnished rills,

Breezes creep and halt,

Soon the guardian night shall kindle

In the violet vault,

All the twinkling tapers

Touched with steady gold,

Burning through the lawny vapours

Where they float and fold.