Stone Trees

Last night a sword-light in the sky     Flashed a swift terror on the dark.     In that sharp light the fields did lie     Naked and stone-like; each tree stood     Like a tranced woman, bound and stark.     Far off the wood     With darkness ridged the riven dark.     And cows astonished stared with fear,     And sheep crept to the knees of cows,     And conies to their burrows slid,     And rooks were still in rigid boughs,     And all things else were still or hid.     From all the wood     Came but the owl's hoot, ghostly, clear.     In that cold trance the earth was held     It seemed an age, or time was nought.     Sure never from that stone-like field     Sprang golden corn, nor from those chill     Gray granite trees was music wrought.     In all the wood     Even the tall poplar hung stone still.     It seemed an age, or time was none ...     Slowly the earth heaved out of sleep     And shivered, and the trees of stone     Bent and sighed in the gusty wind,     And rain swept as birds flocking sweep.     Far off the wood     Rolled the slow thunders on the wind.     From all the wood came no brave bird,     No song broke through the close-fall'n night,     Nor any sound from cowering herd:     Only a dog's long lonely howl     When from the window poured pale light.     And from the wood     The hoot came ghostly of the owl.