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A Feast of Lanterns, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1916], at sacred-texts.com


EVENING

Now pale flocks glimmer as they wind along;
Into the deep ravine the herd goes down;
The cold dumb pool awaits the nightly throng
Of wild geese wailing through the twilight brown.
With jars of new-made wine old farmer Wang
Gladdens the neighbours. Gloomy faces shine
And dark robes kindle to the flush of wine.


Next: Song of Three Gorges