Here you will find the Poem The Late last Rook of poet Ralph Hodgson
The old gilt vane and spire receive The last beam eastward striking; The first shy bat to peep at eve Has found her to his liking. The western heaven is dull and grey, The last red glow has followed day. The late, last rook is housed and will With cronies lie till morrow; If there's a rook loquacious still In dream he hunts a furrow, And flaps behind a spectre team, Or ghostly scarecrows walk his dream.
