When meadows are grey with the morn <br />In the dusk of the woods it is night: <br />The oak and the birch and the pine <br />War with the glimmer of light. <br /> <br />Dryads brown as the leaf <br />Move in the gloom of the glade; <br />When meadows are grey with the morn <br />Dim night in the wood has delayed. <br /> <br />The cocks that crow to the land <br />Are faint and hollow and shrill: <br />Dryads brown as the leaf <br />Whisper, and hide, and are still.<br /><br />Siegfried Sassoon<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/dryads/
