Further in Summer than the Birds -
Pathetic from the Grass -
A Minor Nation celebrates
It's unobtrusive Mass -

No Ordinance be seen -
So gradual the Grace
A pensive Custom it becomes
Enlarging Loneliness -

'Tis Audiblest, at Dusk -
When Day's attempt is done -
And Nature nothing waits to do
But terminate in Tune -

Nor difference it knows
Of Cadence, or of Pause -
But simultaneous as Same -
The Service emphacize -

Nor know I when it cease -
At Candles, it is here -
When Sunrise is - that it is not -
Than this, I know no more -

The Earth has many keys -
Where Melody is not
Is the Unknown Peninsula -
Beauty - is Nature's Fact -

But Witness for Her Land -
And Witness for Her Sea -
The Cricket is Her utmost
Of Elegy, to Me -