Archibald Lampman - The Bird and the Hour lyrics

The sun looks over a little hill And floods the valley with gold- A torrent of gold; And the hither field is green and still; Beyond it a cloud outrolled, Is glowing molten and bright; And soon the hill, and the valley and all, With a quiet fall, Shall be gathered into the night. And yet a moment more, Out of the silent wood, As if from the closing door Of another world and another lovelier mood, Hear'st thou the hermit pour- So sweet! so magical!- His golden music, ghostly beautiful