Songs of the Common Day, and Ave!

An Ode for the Shelley Centenary

by Charles G.D. Roberts




A LITTLE brown old homestead, bowered in trees
     That o'er the Autumn landscape shine afar,
     Burning with amber and with cinnabar.
A yellow hillside washed in airy seas
Of azure, where the swallow drops and flees.

     Midway the slope, clear in the beaming day,
     A barn by many seasons beaten grey,
Big with the gain of prospering husbandries.

In billows round the wide red welcoming doors
     High piles the golden straw; while from within,

     Where plods the team amid the chaffy din,
The loud pulsation of the thresher soars,
     Persistent as if earth could not let her cease
     This happy proclamation of her peace.