Sweet is the stillness

How calm is the even down in the narrow lane 
 
Where white thorn & woodbine & dog roses meet 
 
How bright is the dew on the dog rose again 
 
While grey mist creeps over like the days winding sheet 
O beautiful the silver mist will hang on flowers 
 
& pearl oer the freckles O the fox glove bell 
 
How sweet is the stillness O eventide hours 
 
When in the green oak leaves ring doves do dwell

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