idris
09-04-2008, 08:20 PM
Raven’s Voice
A host of ravens, hovering high,
Came quickly down, from a grey sky, gathering
On a stark, brown hill, covering
Every tree, until, wavering of voice,
Yet keen of eye, they made the choice:
Again to fly, up and westward, roistering
In the wind, up from that hill, ringed
Half by a river; whence they winged aloft,
Calling, together, in their voices soft.
Westward – high above the valley,
That plateau-formed, wide-spread alley – forests,
Old and evergreen, shady rests
For bird and beast abounding, best fortress
Against the feral plough, noise, stress,
And an unthinking populace, busy
With its daily toil; so dizzy,
That none could know himself: diseased, craven;
Sore-vexed by the taut voice of the raven.
A host of ravens, hovering high,
Came quickly down, from a grey sky, gathering
On a stark, brown hill, covering
Every tree, until, wavering of voice,
Yet keen of eye, they made the choice:
Again to fly, up and westward, roistering
In the wind, up from that hill, ringed
Half by a river; whence they winged aloft,
Calling, together, in their voices soft.
Westward – high above the valley,
That plateau-formed, wide-spread alley – forests,
Old and evergreen, shady rests
For bird and beast abounding, best fortress
Against the feral plough, noise, stress,
And an unthinking populace, busy
With its daily toil; so dizzy,
That none could know himself: diseased, craven;
Sore-vexed by the taut voice of the raven.