From upland slopes I see the cows file by, <br /> Lowing, great-chested, down the homeward trail, <br /> By dusking fields and meadows shining pale <br /> With moon-tipped dandelions. Flickering high, <br /> A peevish night-hawk in the western sky <br /> Beats up into the lucent solitudes, <br /> Or drops with griding wing. The stilly woods <br /> Grow dark and deep, and gloom mysteriously. <br /> Cool night winds creep, and whisper in mine ear. <br /> The homely cricket gossips at my feet. <br /> From far-off pools and wastes of reeds I hear, <br /> Clear and soft-piped, the chanting frogs break sweet <br /> In full Pandean chorus. One by one <br /> Shine out the stars, and the great night comes on.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/evening-3/
