LATE, O MILLER 97 LATE, O MILLER LATE, O miller, The birds are silent, The darkness falls. In the house the lights are lighted. See, in the valley they twinkle, The lights of home. Late, O lovers, The night is at hand ; Silence and darkness Clothe the land. TO FRIENDS AT HOME To friends at home, the lone, the admired, the lost The gracious old, the lovely young, to May The fair, December the beloved, These from my blue horizon and green Isles, These from this pinnacle of distances I9 The unforgetful, dedicate.