All my life the evening came and left its gold along the hill, and nobody climbed up to take it, and by morning it was gone. All my life the swallows carried bright threads nobody ever spun, and the poppies in the barley opened in the middle of the night. I said it to the cows at milking, I said it to the empty road, I said it with nobody listening: Somebody up there is in love. Somebody up there is in love. Then came a noon that would not hurry, then came a moon that would not go, white above the haying field with the day still blue behind it. The light went thin, like evening, and every cow came home at noon, and the haymakers stood in the stubble and nobody needed to be told. They said it to each other, laughing, they said it with their faces up, they said it like they always knew it: Somebody up there is in love. Somebody up there is in love. The birds went quiet. And the noon put on its veil. Once in an age! Once in an age! And all the world looked up at once and knew: Somebody up there is in love! Somebody up there is in love! Then the light came back along the hills, the moon went on, the sun went on, the cows went grumbling back to clover, and nobody was sorry. They pass at dusk the way they always have, they leave their gold, they leave their flowers, and there's not a child in all the valley who doesn't know whose gold it is. We say it every evening now, we say it to the gold, the road, we say it like we always knew it: Somebody up there is in love. Somebody up there is in love. Once in an age, and every evening.
