 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
933
ONE AFTERNOON
Below, cool grasses: over us
The maples waver tremulous.
The maples waver tremulous.
A slender overture above,
Low breathing as a sigh of love
Low breathing as a sigh of love
At first, then gradually strong
And stronger: 'tis the locust's song,
And stronger: 'tis the locust's song,
Swoln midway to a pæan of glee,
And lost in silence dwindlingly.
And lost in silence dwindlingly.
Not utter silence; nay, for hid
In ghosts of it, the katydid
In ghosts of it, the katydid
Chirrs a diluted echo of
The loveless song he makes us love.
The loveless song he makes us love.
The low boughs are drugged heavily
With shade; the poem you read to me
With shade; the poem you read to me
Is not more gracious than the trill
Of birds that twitter as they will.
Of birds that twitter as they will.
934
Half consciously, with upturned eyes,
I hear your voice—I see the skies,
I hear your voice—I see the skies,
Where, o'er bright rifts, the swallows glance
Like glad thoughts o'er a countenance;
Like glad thoughts o'er a countenance;
And voices near and far are blent
Like sweet chords of some instrument
Like sweet chords of some instrument
Awakened by the trembling touch
Of hands that love it overmuch.
Of hands that love it overmuch.
Dear heart, let be the book a while!
I want your face—I want your smile!
I want your face—I want your smile!
Tell me how gladder now are they
Who look on us from Heaven to-day.
Who look on us from Heaven to-day.
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |