Summer Evening

The sinking sun is taking leave,
And sweetly gilds the edge of Eve,
While huddling clouds of purple dye
Gloomy hang the western sky.
Crows crowd croaking over head,
Hastening to the woods to bed.
Cooing sits the lonely dove,
Calling home her absent love.
With "Kirchup! Kirchup!" mong the wheats
Partridge distant partridge greets;
Beckoning hints to those that roam,
That guide the squandered covey home.
Swallows check their winding flight,
And twittering on the chimney light.
Round the pond the martins flirt,
Their snowy breasts bedaubed with dirt,
While the mason, neath the slates,
Each mortar-bearing bird awaits:
By art untaught, each labouring spouse
Curious daubs his hanging house.

(tbc)

1 comment:

Arborfield said...

"While huddling clouds of purple dye
Gloomy hang the western sky."

Helpston in July 2004 might by nearly 200 years from when these lines were written, but on a stormy Friday the day before the JCS Festival, the sky looked exactly like this. Clare's 'castles' much in evidence.