The earth has many keys

Further in Summer than the Birds -

Pathetic from the Grass -

A Minor Nation celebrates

It's unobtrusive Mass -

No Ordinance be seen -

So gradual the Grace

A pensive Custom it becomes

Enlarging Loneliness -

'Tis Audiblest, at Dusk -

When Day's attempt is done -

And Nature nothing waits to do

But terminate in Tune -

Nor difference it knows

Of Cadence, or of Pause -

But simultaneous as Same -

The Service emphacize -

Nor know I when it cease -

At Candles, it is here -

When Sunrise is - that it is not -

Than this, I know no more -

The Earth has many keys -

Where Melody is not

Is the Unknown Peninsula -

Beauty - is Nature's Fact -

But Witness for Her Land -

And Witness for Her Sea -

The Cricket is Her utmost

Of Elegy, to Me -