Second Shadow

Cast on the field from their full height,

The oak leaves turn upon our sight.

Sun doubles them upon the land,

Their shade is wider than a hand,

The shadows move from left to right.

A hundred years, to this same sound,

The tree repeats its daily round,

The drama of revolving shade.

A hundred years its leaves are laid

In rich profusion on the ground.

But man a second shadow throws

Beyond the visible he knows:

The mind, untrammeled, can outfly

The nets of mutability

And shake the shade that hugs him close.