Near and Far (Blunden)/Autumn in the Weald
Autumn in the Weald
Come, for here the lazy night
With rosy camp-fires blossoms bright,
The stream half-runs with flute-like trill
Through the quaint channels of the mill
And, to accentuate the hush,
Through fine bamboo and needled rush
A water-spirit ferries. Come,
And see how kindly all's at home.
No sweeter things than these I thyme,
And this by much their sweetest time.
Then, sweet, agree, and by this gate
Watch each one gathering to his mate,
To nest or warren, bough or byre—
The dearness answers all desire,
When all, the shepherd, dog and sheep
With sleep-like motions welcome sleep;
The elm-tree's momentary stir
And freshened sluices yield to her,
And though the fire-side shout and song
Defy her there, they will not long.
With rosy camp-fires blossoms bright,
The stream half-runs with flute-like trill
Through the quaint channels of the mill
And, to accentuate the hush,
Through fine bamboo and needled rush
A water-spirit ferries. Come,
And see how kindly all's at home.
No sweeter things than these I thyme,
And this by much their sweetest time.
Then, sweet, agree, and by this gate
Watch each one gathering to his mate,
To nest or warren, bough or byre—
The dearness answers all desire,
When all, the shepherd, dog and sheep
With sleep-like motions welcome sleep;
The elm-tree's momentary stir
And freshened sluices yield to her,
And though the fire-side shout and song
Defy her there, they will not long.
The bonfire's crackling zeal dies down,
The laughing supper-groups ate gone,
The fair falls quiet in Yalding town,
Alone with the mist I linger on.
The laughing supper-groups ate gone,
The fair falls quiet in Yalding town,
Alone with the mist I linger on.