The Poems of A. C. Benson | ||
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THE LOOSESTRIFE
Purple are the spires of the velvet loosestrife;
On the gliding water lies a purple stain,
Hour by hour it blushes where the brimming river rushes,
Rushes gaily, rushes proudly, but cometh not again.
On the gliding water lies a purple stain,
Hour by hour it blushes where the brimming river rushes,
Rushes gaily, rushes proudly, but cometh not again.
On a day in deep midsummer doth the purple loosestrife
Break in clustered blossom, on a day that poets know,
Over beds of whispering rushes, where the green dim freshet gushes,
Where through leagues of level pastureland the stream winds slow.
Break in clustered blossom, on a day that poets know,
Over beds of whispering rushes, where the green dim freshet gushes,
Where through leagues of level pastureland the stream winds slow.
Many are thy flow'ret faces, sturdy loosestrife,
Not a bloom, but a jocund company of bloom;
Thou dost face each wind that bloweth, and the circling sun that gloweth
From his eastern cloud-pavilions to the western gloom.
Not a bloom, but a jocund company of bloom;
Thou dost face each wind that bloweth, and the circling sun that gloweth
From his eastern cloud-pavilions to the western gloom.
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We depart, and men forget us soon, but, O brave loosestrife,
Thou shalt link the laughing hour to the hour that laughs no more.
Thou shalt gather grace and glory and a crown of ancient story,
And the child shall love the velvet spire his father loved before.
Thou shalt link the laughing hour to the hour that laughs no more.
Thou shalt gather grace and glory and a crown of ancient story,
And the child shall love the velvet spire his father loved before.
Bend thy velvet head, whisper low, purple loosestrife,
Tender secrets of the summer, and the shore, and the stream,
Of the bright eyes that espied thee, and the soft hopes breathed beside thee,
Summer vows and sunny laughter and the golden dream.
Tender secrets of the summer, and the shore, and the stream,
Of the bright eyes that espied thee, and the soft hopes breathed beside thee,
Summer vows and sunny laughter and the golden dream.
Many are the hearts that have loved thee, loosestrife,
Very true and tender was the heart that loved thee best.
He was wounded many a morrow; he was pierced with utter sorrow,
He was blind and hungry-hearted, and he could not rest.
Very true and tender was the heart that loved thee best.
He was wounded many a morrow; he was pierced with utter sorrow,
He was blind and hungry-hearted, and he could not rest.
Wherefore, when thou swayest in the breezes, loosestrife,
Shine for other wanderers and repair thy lustrous head;
But bethink thee of thy lover, whom the graveyard grasses cover,
And the stain upon the waters, where a heart hath bled.
Shine for other wanderers and repair thy lustrous head;
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And the stain upon the waters, where a heart hath bled.
The Poems of A. C. Benson | ||