Quiet as milked cattle the exhausted lovers lie, Wheat-work and bushel-work and draft-plough laid by. Long the silo's sundial shadow falls East upon farmstead house and wall. Old history is not new destiny yet: The dawn which woke us has not made us complete. As sunset descends, their dusky dreams arise Wild among stars as the cook-fire dies. Barefoot among the Pleiades two dreamers dance Where wrathful winds but kiss their face-- And the world below them (that now is ours) Rolls forgotten and green as they race the stars.