SWAYING TREE TOPS 



to be the signal for a general awak- 

 ening. A rabbit hopped out, and sat 

 looking toward the red west. Some 

 birds struck up a vesper song. The 

 branches of the topmost trees upon 

 the ridge began to wave slightly in 

 the soft breath of the evening. The 

 western sky deepened from rose and 

 saffron to maroon, then to duller 

 tints, which finally were lost in the 

 darkness. 



After an hour of brooding dark, 

 the east began to brighten and then 

 the moon slipped over the pine-edged 

 horizon and floated above the indis- 

 tinct disorder of the hills. 



Along the wide road on the ridge 

 crest I pass in the glory of the 

 moonlit night. The shadows are deep 

 where the oaks stand thick beside the 



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