Crotalus

No life in earth, or air, or sky
The sunbeams, broken silently
On the bared rocks around me lie

Cold rocks with half-warmed lichens scarred
And scales of moss and scarce a yard
Away, one long strip, yellow-barred

Lost in a cleft! ’Tis but a stride
To reach it, thrust its roots aside
And lift it on thy stick astride!

For round thee, thrilling air and space
A chattering terror fills the place!

A sound as of dry bones that stir
In the dead Valley! By yon fir
The locust stops its noonday whir!

The wild bird hears smote with the sound
As if by bullet brought to ground
On broken wing, dips, wheeling round!

The hare, transfixed, with trembling lip