There's peace on low mounds and shallow dells,

Yellow rag-wort and sea-reed grey,

And thrumming and booming of village bells:

Dirge the lives of that faded day.

VII.

Merely Suburban.

Dry light reverberates, colour withdrawing

Into a sky so white, sight cannot follow it.

While in the shadows cast, rich hues, intenser

Far than in light spaces, offer me gladness.

Sun reigns triumphantly, thinning all vapour

Into translucency, through which the foliage

Bears out in sparkles of full golden greenery.

O'er this, short dashes of keen grey-green masses lie;

Even the cooler tints, pitched in this higher key—

Purpling and greening greys—are fierce as fires.

All the vast universe lives in one beautiful

Summer—made lambent light, offering gladness.

Who can accept of it? Hearts where no echo rings

Wildly recalling deeds done by old Destiny—

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