NIGHT has fallen, night and darkness, <br />Night with star and planet splendid; <br />And the earth lies like a giant <br />Wrapt in sleep, with limbs extended. <br />Rest has stolen on the homestead, <br />On the long day's rush and riot, <br />And no sound of horse or rider <br />Breaks the soft and dewy quiet. <br />Yet, like heart-cries <br />After battle, <br />Comes the calling, ceaseless calling, <br />Of the dun and dappled cattle. <br />Sleep is sweet, and sweet is silence, <br />When the long day's work is over, <br />For the toiler and the moiler, <br />And the rider and the rover. <br />Not a breeze abroad at night-time <br />Sets the barley-grass aquiver, <br />And from dewfall on to sunrise <br />Sleeps the curlew by the river. <br />Yet no slumber <br />Anguish smothers; <br />Hark the calling, plaintive calling, <br />Of the robbed and stricken mothers! <br />Oh, how still are plain and river — <br />How all-sweet, how all-amazing! <br />By the stars' march night is numbered — <br />Rising, setting, zenith-blazing. <br />Peace has come upon the homestead; <br />Passed the long day's rush and riot; <br />Only from the drafted cattle <br />Comes a note of sad disquiet: <br />Dun and dappled, <br />Horned and poley — <br />They are lowing, lowly lowing, <br />With a helpless melancholy.<br /><br />Roderic Quinn<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/after-drafting/
