Philip Henry Savage

1868-1899 / the United States

Clear And Far

HOW clear, when 't is most far from clear,
Far sounds across the dark you hear:
Approaching wheels, when in the lane
The mist is turning into rain;
A baying hound below the hill;
A train, when all the night is still.
The silent air, now dense and drowned,
A carriage makes for every sound.
How far, when 't is from clear most far,
Most clear at night far noises are.
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