Tons upon tons the brown-green fragrant hay <br />O'erbrims the mows beyond the time-warped eaves, <br />Up to the rafters where the spider weaves, <br />Though few flies wander his secluded way. <br />Through a high chink one lonely golden ray, <br />Wherein the dust is dancing, slants unstirred. <br />In the dry hush some rustlings light are heard, <br />Of winter-hidden mice at furtive play. <br /> <br />Far down, the cattle in their shadowed stalls, <br />Nose-deep in clover fodder's meadowy scent, <br />Forget the snows that whelm their pasture streams, <br />The frost that bites the world beyond their walls. <br />Warm housed, they dream of summer, well content <br />In day-long contemplation of their dreams.<br /><br />Sir Charles GD Roberts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-an-old-barn-2/
