THE DARKENING GARDEN
Where have all the colours gone?
Red of roses, green of grass
Brown of tree-trunk, gold of cowslip
Pink of poppy, blue of cornflower
Who among you saw them pass?
They have gone to make the sunset.
Broidered on the western sky
All the colours of our garden
Woven into a lovely curtain
O'er the bed where Day doth lie.