Shrill and shy from the dusk they cry,Faintly from over the hill;Out of the gray where shadows lie,Out of the gold where sheaves are high,Covey to covey, call and reply,Plaintively, shy and shrill.Dies the day, and from far awayUnder the evening starDies the echo as dies the day,Droops with the dew in the new-mown hay,Sinks and sleeps in the scent of May,Dreamily, faint and far.—Frank Saville in thePall Mall Magazine.
Shrill and shy from the dusk they cry,Faintly from over the hill;Out of the gray where shadows lie,Out of the gold where sheaves are high,Covey to covey, call and reply,Plaintively, shy and shrill.Dies the day, and from far awayUnder the evening starDies the echo as dies the day,Droops with the dew in the new-mown hay,Sinks and sleeps in the scent of May,Dreamily, faint and far.—Frank Saville in thePall Mall Magazine.
Shrill and shy from the dusk they cry,Faintly from over the hill;Out of the gray where shadows lie,Out of the gold where sheaves are high,Covey to covey, call and reply,Plaintively, shy and shrill.
Shrill and shy from the dusk they cry,
Faintly from over the hill;
Out of the gray where shadows lie,
Out of the gold where sheaves are high,
Covey to covey, call and reply,
Plaintively, shy and shrill.
Dies the day, and from far awayUnder the evening starDies the echo as dies the day,Droops with the dew in the new-mown hay,Sinks and sleeps in the scent of May,Dreamily, faint and far.—Frank Saville in thePall Mall Magazine.
Dies the day, and from far away
Under the evening star
Dies the echo as dies the day,
Droops with the dew in the new-mown hay,
Sinks and sleeps in the scent of May,
Dreamily, faint and far.
—Frank Saville in thePall Mall Magazine.