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Poem by Duncan Campbell Scott


Above the lifeless pools the mist films swim,
On the lowlands where sedges chaff and nod;
The withered fringes of the golden-rod
Hang frayed and formless at the quarryТs rim.
Filled with the wine of sunset to the brim,
These limestone pits are cups for the night god,
Set for his lips when he strays hither, shod
With shadows, all the stars following him.
And as gloom grows and deepens like a psalm,
This broken field which summer has passed by
Has caught the ultimate lethean calm,
The fabulous quiet of far Thessaly,
And though the land has lost the bloom and balm,
Nature is all content in liberty.

Duncan Campbell Scott

Duncan Campbell Scott's other poems:
  1. Avis
  2. At William Maclennan's Grave
  3. Off the Isle Aux Coudres
  4. The Harvest
  5. To Winter (Come, O thou season of intense repose)

Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • John Clare November ("The landscape sleeps in mist from morn till noon")
  • Hartley Coleridge November ("THE mellow year is hasting to its close")
  • Robert Binyon November ("Together we laughed and talked in the warm--lit room")
  • William Cartwright November ("Thou Sun that shed'st the Dayes, looke downe and see")
  • William Bryant November ("Yet one smile more, departing, distant sun!")
  • John Payne November ("THE tale of wake is told; the stage is bare")
  • Frederick Tuckerman November ("Oh! who is there of us that has not felt")

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