Sowing

 IT was a perfect day 
For sowing; just 
As sweet and dry was the ground 
As tobacco-dust.
 

I tasted deep the hour 
Between the far 
Owl's chuckling first soft cry 
And the first star.
 

A long stretched hour it was; 
Nothing undone 
Remained; the early seeds 
All safely sown.
 

And now, hark at the rain, 
Windless and light, 
Half a kiss, half a tear, 
Saying good-night.

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