From dyke to hillside, sways the level sweep
Of all the ripened hay, in mid-July;
A tideless sea of rustling melody,
Beside the river-channels of the deep.
Astray and straggling, or in broken heap,
Where birdlings flutter, dark the fences lie.
Far off, the tortuous rush-grown creek is dry.
Where looms the leaning barn like ancient keep.
A Neptune cuts across the sea of green
With chariot-music trembling to the hills;
And as the horses swim the grass divides,
Showing to heaven where his way has been.
The sounding wheel that bares what Natures hides
Drowns the low nestling-cry, and ruthless kills.
(John Frederic Herbin)
More Poetry from John Frederic Herbin:
- Aftermath (John Frederic Herbin Poems)
- The Sea Harvest (John Frederic Herbin Poems)
- Haying (John Frederic Herbin Poems)
- The Returned Acadian (John Frederic Herbin Poems)
- In the Rain (John Frederic Herbin Poems)
- Aftermath - Sonnet (John Frederic Herbin Poems)