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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
XL
Oh, bright the day, and calm and cool
With clouds, like cotton-fields that swoon
Beneath the silver summer moon;
And, quiet as a forest pool,—
Where Autumn sits and combs her locks,
And strews with rainbow leaves and roon,—
The shadows rest upon the rocks.
With clouds, like cotton-fields that swoon
Beneath the silver summer moon;
And, quiet as a forest pool,—
Where Autumn sits and combs her locks,
And strews with rainbow leaves and roon,—
The shadows rest upon the rocks.
The sun pours airy amber on
The withered wood-ways, where the late
Green-crickets' shell-like wings vibrate:
And, fainter than lost lines of dawn,
The fields shine labyrinthed with rays,
With gossamer-webs, that imitate
Cloud-figments, or a splintered haze.
The withered wood-ways, where the late
38
And, fainter than lost lines of dawn,
The fields shine labyrinthed with rays,
With gossamer-webs, that imitate
Cloud-figments, or a splintered haze.
Beyond the yarrow's meekness now,
Wood-sorrel's lowliness, and shy
Hepatica's humility,
The Year is grown: makes brave her brow
With crowning crimson of the lands,
And robes her limbs in cardinal dye,
And by the lonely waters stands.
Wood-sorrel's lowliness, and shy
Hepatica's humility,
The Year is grown: makes brave her brow
With crowning crimson of the lands,
And robes her limbs in cardinal dye,
And by the lonely waters stands.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |