 | Poems, original and translated |  |
128
SIGNS OF SUMMER
IN A COUNTRY TOWN.
Summer is nigh; the balmy air is filledWith thousand omens of the blissful time.
The floating fragrances of bonfire smoke
Waft back sweet memories of life's early spring,
When from the field rose childhood's feu-de-joie.
At morn the robin sings his roundelay;
The worm, unmindful of the “early bird,”
Thrusts from the new-dug earth his slimy head;
The marshes ring with the ecstatic choirs
Of frogs exulting in the copious rain;
The soft blue eye of May looks mildly down
With tender greeting on the face of earth,
And the bud's bosom swells responsively.
The tinkling of the cow-bell seems to chime
With the low tinkling of the rivulet,
That dances o'er the stones with silver feet.
The laugh of childhood emulates the laugh
Of gushing fountains, and a mingled hum
Of industry and pleasure, far and near,
Is borne o'er hill and valley; soon the morn
Of spring will deepen into summer's noon.
She comes! the blissful June! upon the lawn
I see the sparkling of her sandalled feet;
The sky is flushing with her rosy cheek;
Birds, buds, and brooklets sing—
Sweet Summer comes!
| Poems, original and translated | |