10.08.2014, 12:38
ABANDONED
O'ER the waste fields I hear the fancied sound
Of children's voices — laughter and shrill calls;
Sweetly their clear and childish treble falls
Upon the evening; bare feet sun-embrowned,
Bright eyes and eager faces, cluster round
'Mid deepening twilight, while the vine-grown walls
Smile back the sunset, and the brooklet brawls
Along its shallows from the pasture-ground.
Once more creaks slowly by the laden wain ;
Swallows on slanted wings are wheeling low
About the eaves; hints of warm summer rain
Breathe in the air, and the long shadows grow ;
But here the children ne'er troop home again
Through gathering dusk, as in the long-ago.
O'ER the waste fields I hear the fancied sound
Of children's voices — laughter and shrill calls;
Sweetly their clear and childish treble falls
Upon the evening; bare feet sun-embrowned,
Bright eyes and eager faces, cluster round
'Mid deepening twilight, while the vine-grown walls
Smile back the sunset, and the brooklet brawls
Along its shallows from the pasture-ground.
Once more creaks slowly by the laden wain ;
Swallows on slanted wings are wheeling low
About the eaves; hints of warm summer rain
Breathe in the air, and the long shadows grow ;
But here the children ne'er troop home again
Through gathering dusk, as in the long-ago.