Explore "October-An Etching" by Edna St. Vincent Millay on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There where the woodcock his long bill among the alders / Forward in level flight propels, / Tussocks of faded grass are islands in the pasture swamp / Where the small foot, if it be light as well, can pass
Dry-shod to rising ground.
Not so the boo t of the hunter.
Chilly and black and halfway to the knee / Is the thick water there, heavy wading, / Uneven to the step; there the more cautious ones, / Pausing for a moment, break their guns.
There the white setter ticked with black / Sets forth with silky feathers on the bird's track
And wet to his pink skin and half his size comes back.
Cows are pastured there; they have made a path among the alders.
By now the keeper's boy has found / The chalk of the woodcock on the trampled ground.