The disbeliever walked the moonlit place, Outside of gates of hammered serafin, Observing the moon-blotches on the walls.
The yellow rocked across the still facades, Or else sat spinning on the pinnacles, While he imagined humming sounds and sleep.
The walker in the moonlight walked alone, And each blank window of the building balked His loneliness and what was in his mind: If in a shimmering room the babies came, Drawn close by dreams of fledgling wing, It was because night nursed them in its fold.
Night nursed not him in whose dark mind The clambering wings of birds of black revolved, Making harsh torment of the solitude.
Bates takes this poem to signify that the author of "A High-Toned Old Christian Woman" was not altogether "the village atheist".
[2] Bates compares the disbeliever to the rationalist in the sixth of "Six Significant Landscapes", who trims his thinking to the cut of his hat.