On The Hill

Opaled sky, a dim curved silver moon
With pendant star.
Down beneath the dusky hill
A little stream winds in and out--
A silver thread,
Against the somberer hue
Of rugged rocks and pines.
Still-so still! A cricket's chirp,
Is loud among the grasses in the wood--
So still, that as I stand
I feel the calm of Nature touch my heart,
To heal its hurt and soothe its pain,
As drooping flowers, by summer rain,
Are lifted up to life again.

^__Louisa Cooke Don-Carlos