The sun looks over a little hill <br />And floods the valley with gold- <br />A torrent of gold; <br />And the hither field is green and still; <br />Beyond it a cloud outrolled, <br />Is glowing molten and bright; <br />And soon the hill, and the valley and all, <br />With a quiet fall, <br />Shall be gathered into the night. <br />And yet a moment more, <br />Out of the silent wood, <br />As if from the closing door <br />Of another world and another lovelier mood, <br />Hear'st thou the hermit pour- <br />So sweet! so magical!- <br />His golden music, ghostly beautiful.<br /><br />Archibald Lampman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bird-and-the-hour/
