.....

Lake heard, and knew that answer could be none,
Then by the sheep-tracks on the silver downs
Silent they walked, and midnight came apace,
And by the bases of the mill they went,
Close moving, arm by arm, and down again
Towards the valley, where again they stood,
And let their lives beat out upon the night. 
And as they waited on farewell, a form
Came up before them, and Martin Dane stood there,
And “by your leave,” he murmured, and went on. 
Then Zell, “To-morrow, when the moon is full,
Meet me beside the mill mound.  Martin goes
To Farnham for the otter hunting.”  Lake
Took her and kissed, and with no word they parted
Where the light still looked from the hillside farm
Over the valley to his home.  And he
As dreaming passed again by the mill to sleep.

.....

Firmer the mould, surer the flight of boughs,
Familiar move the bright plains of the air,
And newly stedfast the gospel he had known
Year by year written on his Sussex life,
Now seemed to Lake this day.  Among his men,
All day he drew and pegged the rickyard straw,
And piled the barn from floor to the swallows’ beam,
Brown throated and brown armed, the golden rose
Of summer wind glowing upon his face,
And all the phrasing of his body good. 
And twilight fell on the full harvest home,
And the barn doors were closed, and painted wagons
Stood empty by the ricks, with sunken wheels
Smeared with the fallen husks, and voice was none,
And silence with the moon was over all.

.....

Lake through the eve walked his familiar paths,
Counting the labour of his years; the shed
Where morn and night the cattle came to stall,
Empty and still now but for the timbering rats;
The low smooth paven dairy, where the moon
Now sent a shaft on one full yellow bowl;
The barn so happily at teeming time again,
The rickyard stacked with hurdles by the fence,
The long loft over plough and wagon teams. 
Among the heavy apple trees he passed,
By ledgy sheep track, over the new stubble,
Across the valley, and in the shadow kept
Of Martin Dane’s home hop-yard, and again
Back to his own hillside.  And in the south,
Beyond the moon, over the midnight sea,
Came up a cloud all heavy with black wind.

.....

Zell by the mill was standing when he came,
Now darkly gowned so that she seemed a shadow,
Black by the black mill, save for the white face,
And gold hair and white hands that caught the moonlight. 
Together the wide wooden steps they climbed,
By broken treads and splitting rail, and he
Lifted the rusted latch, and there within
Were folded sacks perished along the seam,
Forgotten with the dust, and the bare walls,
Now weather-broken.  Above them a dim light
Showed them a laddered way still up.  They came
Into the high roof chamber, and a rent