The Talk Of The Echoes: A Fragment - Poem by George MacDonald
When the cock crows loud from the glen,
And the moor-cock chirrs from the heather,
What hear ye and see ye then,
Ye children of air and ether?
A thunder as of waves at the rising of the moon,
And a darkness on the graves though the day is at its noon.
. A springing as of grass though the air is damp and chill,
And a glimmer from the river that winds about the hill.
. A lapse of crags that leant from the mountain's earthen
And a shock of ruin sent on the river underneath.
. A sound as of a building that groweth fair and good,
And a piping of the thrushes from the hollow of the wood.
. A wailing as of lambs that have wandered from the flock,
And a bleating of their dams that was answered from the rock.
. A breathing as of cattle in the shadow where they dream,
And a sound of children playing with the pebbles in the stream.
. A driving as of clouds in the kingdom of the air,
And a tumult as of crowds that mingle everywhere.
. A waving of the grass, and a passing o'er the lakes,
And a shred of tempest-cloud in the glory when it breaks.
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