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59
A MAY IDYL.
I
Would I might lean and dream here evermore,Thus by green shadow of hazels murmured o'er,
Nor ever wander away, clear pool, from thee,
Through whose pure wave thine amber-flickering floor
Swims ever upwards, wavering languidly!
II
For May is ruddy and gold amongst the trees,All round the little valley's sides of peace,
Where no man's voice, nor any voice, makes stir,
Save sometimes o'er the leafy loneliness
The long, loose laugh of the wild woodpecker.
III
Yes, here, clear pool, deliciously alone,Here let me muse and dream, and make mine own
All of thy beauty, and every change of thine—
The tremulous shades that cling to every stone,
And all those tawny stones that shake and shine:
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IV
Or else, what new sweet charm they bring for thee,These breaths, whereof the hazels lisp to me,
Wildering thy floors with glimmerings manifold;
Or melting into one rich mystery
The enamelled softness of their brown and gold:
V
And then, again, the breezy shudder allayed,And those slow coiling lights that float and fade
Down through the clear mid-water, until once more
The little tangled tremor of woven shade
Spreads its live tissue o'er the pebbly floor.
VI
Yes, here, loved pool, here let me dream! for here,Through mine own heart's most tranquil lake-water,
Lights also from afar, send other gleams:
Dreams of that distant other love draw near,
That seems so sweet, and only sweet in dreams!
VII
Again—ah, slothful-sweet!—it seems I seeBeauty which once I knew full bitterly:
Fair faces, long forgotten, rise again.
I see them smile, and frown and smile, at me;
And sigh for all their falseness, with no pain.
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VIII
Then, lifting lids, I catch thy mirroringsOf leaf and sky, of green and glancing things,
Which oft thy wayward pebbles waver through.
Oh, how like these are my imaginings
One tenderest interlude of false and true!
An. æt. 18
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