Nightfall on the Farm

Image from MoMA

NIGHTFALL ON THE FARM.

Upon the porch at even
We two together stood,
And listened to the tinkle
Of sheep-bells in the wood.
The locust trees bent o’er us,
White blossoms dropping down,
And, fringed with flowers, before us
The path lay bare and brown.

We heard the sheep-bells music
Far off and dreamy grow;
We saw the white flowers sprinkle
The lawn like flecks of snow;
The roses drew back shyly
Into the silent dark,
But though their haunts were shaded
Their perfume we could mark.

Up in a locust’s branches
A little bird said “cheep” —
‘Twas all that broke the silence
The whole world seemed asleep.
“Good night,” she said. “I love you!”
I said. She did not speak,
But swift she leaned toward me
With tears upon her cheek.

— Philip L. Barker, in Chicago Record.

Freeborn County Standard (Albert Lea, Minnesota) Jun 10, 1896

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