I. Les Silhouettes.

            The sea is flecked with bars of grey
            The dull dead wind is out of tune,
            And like a withered leaf the moon
Is blown across the stormy bay.

            Etched clear upon the pallid sand
            The black boat lies: a sailor boy
            Clambers aboard in careless joy
With laughing face and gleaming hand.

            And overheard the curlews cry,
            Where through the dusky upland grass
            The young brown-throated reapers pass,
Like silhouettes against the sky.

II. La Fuite De La Lune.

            To outer senses there is peace,
            A dreamy peace on either hand,
            Deep silence in the shadowy land,
Deep silence where the shadows cease.

            Save for a cry that echoes shrill
            From some lone bird disconsolate;
            A corncrake calling to its mate;
The answer from the misty hill.

            An suddenly the moon withdraws
            Her sickle from the lightening skies,
            And to her sombre cavern flies,
Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze.