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Earth's Voices

Transcripts from Nature, Sospitra, and Other Poems. By William Sharp
Sharp, William,1855-1905
  
[epigraph]
  
[dedication]
  
[epigraph]
  
[epigraph]

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[section]
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EARTH'S VOICES.
  
SOSPITRA.
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TRANSCRIPTS FROM NATURE.
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GASPARA STAMPA.
  
MATER DOLOROSA.
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SONNETS FOR TWO PICTURES BY ROSSETTI.
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SONNETS ON THREE PAINTINGS BY BAZZI.
  
DURING MUSIC.
  
OUTLINES.
  
THE WATER-JOY.
  
THE CRESCENT MOON.
  
MORNING.
  
OUTLINES.
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AUSTRALIAN SKETCHES.
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MOONRISE SKETCHES.
  
THE SHADOWED SOULS.
  
SLEEPY HOLLOW.
  
BIRCHINGTON REVISITED.
  
JUNE'S ADVENT.
  
PHANTASY.
  
QUINCE BLOSSOMS.
  
MAY-DAY.
  
IN THE VAL MUGNONE.
  
IN MAREMMA.
  
A SUNSET.
  
ON THE CAMPAGNA.
  
FIREFLIES.
  
IN THE OLD PROTESTANT CEMETERY AT FLORENCE.
  
A RECORD.
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RAINBOW SKETCHES.
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TRANSCRIPTS FROM NATURE.
 I. 
I. THE ROOKERY AT SUNRISE.
 II. 
II. ON A THAMES BACKWATER.
 III. 
III. OCTOBER WOODLANDS.
 IV. 
IV. THE PINK ACACIA.
 V. 
V. MOUNTAIN-HAZE.
 VI. 
VI. THE YELLOW POPPY.
 VII. 
VII. MAGNOLIAS.
 VIII. 
VIII. THE CORAL ISLE.
 IX. 
IX. GREEN SEAS.
 X. 
X. FROZEN RAINBOWS.
 XI. 
XI. SUMMER ICEBERGS.
 XII. 
XII. THE EVENING STAR.
 XIII. 
XIII. THE RUINED HILL-TOWER.
 XIV. 
XIV. AN AUTUMNAL EVENING.
 XV. 
XV. TRAVELLERS' JOY.
 XVI. 
XVI. A CRYSTAL FOREST.
 XVII. 
XVII. THE MOORS.
 XVIII. 
XVIII. THE DEAD STAG.
 XIX. 
XIX. THE HAUNT OF THE OSPREY.
 XX. 
XX. THE BLASTED PINE.
 XXI. 
XXI. SUMMER YELLOWS.
 XXII. 
XXII. AN AFTERGLOW AMID THE CUMBERLAND FELLS.
 XXIII. 
XXIII. A WINTER HEDGEROW.
 XXIV. 
XXIV. WILD SWANS.
 XXV. 
XXV. THE SALMON POOL.
 XXVI. 
XXVI. THE EAGLE.
  
MADONNA NATURA.

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X. THE FIELD MOUSE.

When the moon shines o'er the corn,
And the beetle drones his horn,
And the flittermice swift fly,
And the nightjars swooping cry,
And the young hares run and leap,
We waken from our sleep.
And we climb with tiny feet
And we munch the green corn sweet,
With startled eyes for fear
The white owl should fly near,
Or long slim weasel spring
Upon us where we swing.
We do no hurt at all:
Is there not room for all
Within the happy world?
All day we lie close curled
In drowsy sleep, nor rise
Till through the dusky skies
The moon shines o'er the corn,
And the beetle drones his horn.
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