Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||
14
XIV. THE LARCH.
Lover of hills, and Lady of the lakes,If still with thee the birch must empire share,
When rubies fruit along the beaded hair,
Thy grace the palm pre-eminently takes;
For then, when first the burly bee awakes,
As if to take the landscape unaware,
With gradual change, and dreamy, phantom air,
Thine heart again to feathery greenness shakes:
Feigner of Death, but first to brave the cold,
Thou teachest how the multitude may live
In glad interdependence and be free;
Thy voice, with murmurs of a summer sea,
Brings blessing o'er the hills, and thou dost give,
For scarce a footing, showers of Autumn gold.
Sonnets at the English Lakes | ||