Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||
108
CVIII. AUGUST AT THE LAKES.
Without the Cuckoo, April comes again,Fresh gleam the vales, ghylls whiten far away,
Where Roses danced now blooms the bramble spray,
And Rowan berries take a russet stain;
Lanes long disused re-echo with the wain,
While, as if second youth had bade them play,
With dexterous hand the dalesmen toss the hay,
Or mound it close against the morrow's rain;
Now for belated lovers flutter white
Wild Raspberry leaves and pale Valerian
In dusky roads, where cool night breezes stir,
When hedgehogs cry and soft-winged fern-owls chirr;
Now lakes at morn are ruffled gold, and wan,
And blue hills move all day at most uncertain height.
Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||