 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
A STRAGGLER.
I left the throng whose laughter made
That wide old woodland echo clear,
While forth they spread, in breezy shade,
Their plethoric hamperfuls of cheer.
That wide old woodland echo clear,
While forth they spread, in breezy shade,
Their plethoric hamperfuls of cheer.
Along a dark moss-misted plank
My way in dreamy mood I took,
And crossed, from balmy bank to bank,
The impetuous silver of the brook.
My way in dreamy mood I took,
And crossed, from balmy bank to bank,
The impetuous silver of the brook.
And wandering on, at last I found
A shadowy tranquil gladelike place,
Full of mellifluous leafy sound,
While midmost of its grassy space
A shadowy tranquil gladelike place,
Full of mellifluous leafy sound,
While midmost of its grassy space
A lump of rugged granite gleamed,
A tawny-lichened ledge of gray,
And up among the boughs there beamed
One blue delicious glimpse of day!
A tawny-lichened ledge of gray,
And up among the boughs there beamed
One blue delicious glimpse of day!
15
In fitful faintness on my ear
The picnic's lightsome laughter fell,
And softly while I lingered here,
Sweet fancy bound me with a spell!
The picnic's lightsome laughter fell,
And softly while I lingered here,
Sweet fancy bound me with a spell!
In some bland clime across the seas
Those merry tones I seem to mark,
While dame and gallant roamed at ease
The pathways of some stately park.
Those merry tones I seem to mark,
While dame and gallant roamed at ease
The pathways of some stately park.
And in that glimpse of amethyst air
I seemed to watch, with musing eye,
The rich blue fragment, fresh and fair,
Of some dead summer's morning sky!
I seemed to watch, with musing eye,
The rich blue fragment, fresh and fair,
Of some dead summer's morning sky!
And that rough mass of granite, too,
From graceless outlines gently waned,
And took the sculptured shape and hue
Of dull old marble, deeply stained.
From graceless outlines gently waned,
And took the sculptured shape and hue
Of dull old marble, deeply stained.
And then (most beauteous change of all!)
Strown o'er its mottled slab lay low
A glove, a lute, a silken shawl,
A vellum-bound Boccaccio!
Strown o'er its mottled slab lay low
A glove, a lute, a silken shawl,
A vellum-bound Boccaccio!
| Fantasy and Passion | |