So the hill stops,

This pleached roof shows

Above the copse

Of wild musk-rose:

A house is here

For the singing year.

Pause in this place:

Consider now

The take-off bough,

The bird in space;

Westering!

Beauty is the sky,

The branch, to man;

Today let the eye

The full curve span:

The cloud that passes

And these dimmed grasses.

One covert hides

Pavilion, nest;

Within their green

Poise, wing. Heart, rest.

Housed, child and plover,

Lark and lover!