Abstract

Low at the dusk’s far edge a blunted moon Descended from its fullness dimly glows. The night abides again on Chailly plain. A wandering shepherd labors in faint beams Till picket-fold and hut rise up once more From parts kept in a cart that no one sees. A raised staff comes back down to guide and goad Each sheep dissolved in darkness and a flock Shadowed by light but not the source of light. The bleating of a lost or straggling lamb Will go unheard in deep exhaustion’s sleep, For here is no G...