Now close the windows and hush all the fields:
If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
Be it my loss.
It will be long ere the marshes resume,
I will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
But see all wind-stirred.
I re-stumbled across this poem the other day, and it's kind of haunting me. There's something about the way "Now close the windows" sounds that really affects me. Poetically, I know it's assonance/internal rhyme, but there's something else there too. It sounds like a good nighttime poem; so there it is--good night. But I'm leaving the windows open. :-)