Frederick Philip Grove
LANDSCAPES
(IM 16-28)

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e-Edition by Gaby Divay
© August 2007

University of Manitoba Libraries	FPG & FrL Collections	University of Manitoba Archives

NIGHT IN THE HILLS[5] by Frederick Philip Grove (1924) The world lies quiet; in the sinking west A fevered day has slowly bled to death. Engulfing shadows, like a chilling breath, Rise from the valley to this wooded crest.[6] Blotted is all that is but of the hour[7] And nought remains but enduring lines: The frame-work of the hills. A crescent shines Low in the sky, above the clouds that lower.[9] But as I listen to[10] the night that hoods The landscape with its domes and dipping[11] slopes, I hear a murmur or a sigh that gropes, A stifled sob astray in the great woods. Thus, too, sobs in the night the ancient sea Stilled though it be. The sun has sunk away; Yet there remains this echo of the fray;[12] And wearily leans a shape[13] against a tree. In Memoriam 18