(1882) Men ziet de hooge dennen verlicht door de ondergaande zon en tusschen de lanen door heeft men kijkjes op het graan waartusschen de klaprozen bloeien .Oh the perfumes and the shadows of the pines in Verdleigh Coppice , Straight red boles that catch the sunset as it smoulders in the west ! Creamy glint of waving barley , and a scarlet flash of poppies , Seen through columns where the evening wind is moaning to its rest .Here it seems the scent is deepest where the wind has caught the branches , And a loaded bough lies broken , and the sap has oozed to light , With its golden gums of healing , like the chastened love that staunches With the morning ' s consolation some deep sorrow of the night .