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MID-AUGUST
|
|
FROM
the upland hidden,
Where the hill is sunny
Tawny like pure honey
In the August heat,
Memories float unbidden
|
5 |
Where
the thicket serries
Fragrant with ripe berries
And the milk-weed sweet.
LIKE
a prayer-mat holy
Are the patterned mosses |
10 |
Which
the twin-flower crosses
With her flowerless vine;
In fragile melancholy
The pallid ghost flowers hover
As if to guard and cover
|
15 |
The
shadow of a shrine.
WHERE
the pine-linnet lingered
The pale water searches,
The roots of gleaming birches
Draw silver from the lake; |
20 |
The
ripples, liquid-fingered,
Plucking the root-layers,
Fairy like lute players
Lulling music make.
O TO
lie here brooding |
25 |
Where
the pine-tree column
Rises dark and solemn
To the airy lair,
Where, the day eluding,
Night is couched dream laden,
|
30 |
| Like
a deep witch-maiden
Hidden in her hair.
IN
filmy evanescence
Wraithlike scents assemble,
Then dissolve and tremble |
35 |
A
little until they die;
Spirits of the florescence
Where the bees searched and tarried
Till the blossoms all were married
In the days before July. |
40 |
LIGHT has lost its splendour,
Light refined and sifted,
Cool light and dream drifted
Ventures even where,
(Seeping silver tender)
|
45 |
In
the dim recesses,
Trembling mid her tresses,
Hides the maiden hair.
COVERED
with the shy-light,
Filling in the hushes, |
50 |
Slide
the tawny thrushes
Calling to their broods,
Hoarding till the twilight
The song that made for noon-days
Of the amorous June days
|
55 |
Preludes
and interludes.
THE
joy that I am feeling
Is there something in it
Unlike the warble the linnet
Phrases and intones? |
60 |
Or
is a like thought stealing
With a rapture fine, free
Through the happy pine tree
Ripening her cones?
IN
some high existence |
65 |
In
another planet
Where their poets cannot
Know our birds and flowers,
Does the same persistence
Give the dreams they issue
|
70 |
Something
like the tissue
Of these dreams of ours?
O TO
lie athinking—
Moods and whims! I fancy
Only necromancy
|
75 |
Could
the web unroll,
Only somehow linking
Beauties that meet and mingle
In this quiet dingle
With the beauty of the whole. |
80 |
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