An Autumn Night in Orkney.
Set low between green banks the long loch lies1
Gleaming across the shadowy Northern night,2
Its little rippling splashes, and the sighs3
Of winds among the reeds, where gleams of white4
Betray the sleeping swans, and cries that might5
Be echoes of a water spirit’s song,6
Come low and soft up through the dim soft light ;7
Far overhead the mallard’s pinion strong8
Rings through the deepening dusk the quivering air along.9
Out on a wave-washed sandspit to and fro10
A troop of curlews wander lazily,11
Their whistle rises tremulous and low,12
Tender as starlight on a windless sea ;13
Then all the waters touched to melody14
Wake with strange calls of divers dumb by day ;15
A startled plover, piping plaintively16
Speeds to the misty moorland far away17
And through the bending reeds coots dive in clumsy play.18
In a wide rush-grown pool upon the sands,19
Like a dark soul that some forgotten crime20
Has struck to hopeless gloom, a heron stands21
A silent shadow gray and gaunt as Time.22
From the long grasses, white as if with rime23
Where the pale mists cling low along the shore24
Clear bell-like notes burst in sweet sudden chime25
And over all Earth’s voices evermore26
Roll the deep thundertones of Ocean’s solemn roar.27