CHILL OF THE EVE
A long, green swell Slopes soft to the sea, And a far-off bell Swings sweet to me, As the grey, chill day Slips away from the lea. Spread cold and far, Without one glow From a mild, pale star, Is the sky’s steel bow, And the grey, chill day Slips away below. That green tree grieves To the air around, And the whispering leaves Have a lonely sound, As the grey, chill day Slips away from the ground. The long grass bends With a rippling rush To the soft, white ends Where the roots are lush, And the grey, chill day Slips away in the hush. Down by the shore The slow waves twine From the rock-strewn floor To the shell-edged line, And the grey, chill day Slips away with a whine. And dark, more dark, The shades settle down, Far off is a spark From the lamp-lit town, And the grey, chill day Slips way with a frown. —JAMES STEPHENS. The greatest pleasure I know is to do a good action by stealth and have it found out by accident. —Lamb. If you would lift me, you must be on higher ground.—Emerson.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/SUNAK19270608.2.183.10
Bibliographic details
Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 65, 8 June 1927, Page 14
Word Count
197CHILL OF THE EVE Sun (Auckland), Volume 1, Issue 65, 8 June 1927, Page 14
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