Poem by Eleanor Farjeon

Night-Piece

Now independent, beautiful and proud,
Out of the vanishing body of a cloud
Like its arisen soul the full moon swims
Over the sea, into whose distant brims
Has flowed the last of the light. I am alone.
Even the diving gannet now is flown
From these unpeopled sands. A mist lies cold
Upon the muffled boundaries of the world.
The lovely earth whose silence is so deep
Is folded up in night, but not in sleep.

1. In the Oculist's Anteroom
2. Wild Hyacinth
3. The Reflection
4. The Moral
5. Underworld

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