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A Day
By John Collings Squire, Sir
I. MORNING
The village fades away
Where I last night came,
Where they housed me and fed me
And never asked my name.
The sun shines bright, my step is light,
I, who have no abode,
Jeer at the stuck, monotonous
Black posts along the road.
II. MIDDAY
The wood is still,
As here I sit
My heart drinks in
The peace of it.
A something stirs
I know not where,
Some quiet spirit
In the air.
O tall straight stems!
O cool deep green!
O hand unfelt!
O face unseen!
III. EVENING
The evening closes in,
As down this last long lane
I plod; there patter round
First heavy drops of rain.
Feet ache, legs ache, but now
Step quickens as I think
Of mounds of bread and cheese
And something hot to drink.
IV. NIGHT
Ah! sleep is sweet, but yet
I will not sleep awhile
Nor for a space forget
The toil of that last mile;
But lie awake and feel
The cool sheets' tremulous kisses
O'er all my body steal...
Is sleep as sweet as this is?
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