Where the evening moth alighted In the meadow almost cut And the honeybee was plundered By the grey gull and the rook, There, the child that gleaned the cockleweed With hayrake and pitchfork Saw Adonis racing barefoot In the lanes between the swarth. Meadowsweet and purple vetches In the dogrose scented hedge Where a tinker can was hidden With an acrid drinking edge. And the hoarsened cuckoo whispered To the pipit in pursuit Where the excess heat of Summer Was the warmth of our youth. In an Autumn evening meadow Where the frost escaped the sun And the pheasant ran from instinct When he saw the prowler's gun, There, the black fruit from the briar Plucked in innocence he ate As the child passed out of Eden And Adam barred the gate.