 | The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley |  |
1030
A NOON INTERVAL
A deep, delicious hush in earth and sky—A gracious lull—since, from its wakening,
The morn has been a feverish, restless thing
In which the pulse of Summer ran too high
And riotous, as though its heart went nigh
To bursting with delights past uttering:
Now, as an o'erjoyed child may cease to sing
All falteringly at play, with drowsy eye
Draining the pictures of a fairy tale
To brim his dreams with—there comes o'er the day
A loathful silence, wherein all sounds fail
Like loitering tones of some faint roundelay ...
No wakeful effort longer may avail—
The wand waves, and the dozer sinks away.
| The Complete Works of James Whitcomb Riley | |