A thane beneath a snowy hawthorn hedge, When dove-gray hills were golden with the sky, Laid down his scythe to hear a starry cry Fall like a dream wind-blown from ledge to ledge, And, from the chapel on the forest edge, A saint's deep chant soar sunward clear and high, As when the lines of gleaming heron fly To lonely pools beyond the purpled sedge. Then white as dew upon the morning sheaves The reaper saw a cloud of angels pass Through sunlit birches by the water-springs, And watched them wait among the dappled leaves To fold Chad's soul, more sweet than summer grass, Within the silver circle of their wings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LINES INSCRIBED UPON A CUP FORMED FROM A SKULL by GEORGE GORDON BYRON LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI by JOHN KEATS THE FROGS: THE RIVAL POETS by ARISTOPHANES SUNSET ON THE ORANGE MOUNTAINS by ADRIAN BERKOWITZ PSALM 55 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE A FAVOURITE SCENE; RECALLED ON LOOKING AT BIRKET FOSTER'S LANDSCAPE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |