Autumn by the Sea
John Galsworthy
We'll hear the murmur of the swell,
And touch the driftwood, grey,
And with our quickened senses smell
The sea-flowers all the day.
We'll watch the hills, the pastures brown,
The trees of changing hue,
Till evening's ice comes stealing down
From those high fields of blue.
And far the crimson sun-god sails
Away in sunset cloak;
And gentle heat's gold pathway fails
In autumn's opal smoke.
And then we'll watch the bright half-moon—
Slow-spinning in the sky,
And trace the dark flight—all too soon—
Of land-birds wheeling by.
Through all the night of stars we'll touch
The quietude of things,
And gain brief freedom from the clutch
Of life's encompassings.
