 | Ballads of the North and Other Poems |  |
SUMMER.
Sing me thy songs, O Summer! let me hear,Now that the boughs are green, the winds are laid,
Through the warm noonday silence of the shade,
The things thou hast to give, fulfilled and near.
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And through my eyelids shoots its slumberous heat,
With dazzling images of all bright things;
The very dreams have folded their sweet wings,
As if they had arrived at their own shore,
And had no need to wander any more.
A scent of bean flowers comes across the breeze,
Filled with the busy murmur of the bees,
And all the distance lies in hazy gold;
And even as thou singest, I behold,
Amid the leafy windings of the plain,
Some lane of roses leading lone and low
Into a bower of bliss for me to gain,
Awaiting me until the sunset's glow.
The lilies and the hollyhocks stand tall
On the smooth lawn against the cottage wall,
The doves' white wings upon its low roofs brood,
And the great lime-trees guard its solitude.
Shall I not enter in, and be content,
Past the long rows of bees that homeward went?
They too have made their home about its door,
And hive for me their golden summer store.
| Ballads of the North and Other Poems | |