 | Poems |  |
38
THE DRAGON.
All lovely lies the valley,
Green and smooth and still,
A river in its bosom
That takes its quiet will,
And, when the rain comes down amain,
Spreads lake-like to the hill.
Green and smooth and still,
A river in its bosom
That takes its quiet will,
And, when the rain comes down amain,
Spreads lake-like to the hill.
Across the sleeping meadow,
With crests of flame and gold,
The mountains rise to meet the sky,
The woods lie fold on fold,
And shut my verdant valley in
Full late from wintry cold.
With crests of flame and gold,
The mountains rise to meet the sky,
The woods lie fold on fold,
And shut my verdant valley in
Full late from wintry cold.
Ah! fresh and velvet meadow,
So full of noonday light;
Can any trouble enter thee,
Or any mad delight?
Or aught unblest disturb thy rest
Though tempests tear the night?
So full of noonday light;
Can any trouble enter thee,
Or any mad delight?
Or aught unblest disturb thy rest
Though tempests tear the night?
Alas! across my valley
The dragon's pathway lies;
I see him in the frosty dawn
Salute my startled eyes,
With flying plume of foamy white,
Unfolding as he flies.
The dragon's pathway lies;
I see him in the frosty dawn
Salute my startled eyes,
With flying plume of foamy white,
Unfolding as he flies.
39
Through all the tranquil twilight
He shrieks his summons dire;
The sons of men stand by aghast
To meet his eye of fire;
For some men know he bringeth woe,
And some their heart's desire.
He shrieks his summons dire;
The sons of men stand by aghast
To meet his eye of fire;
For some men know he bringeth woe,
And some their heart's desire.
Deep in the purple noon of night
His fiery cross I see
Go kindling all the slumbering hills
Whence sleep and silence flee,
Till, snorting sparks and breathing smoke,
He pants beside the sea.
His fiery cross I see
Go kindling all the slumbering hills
Whence sleep and silence flee,
Till, snorting sparks and breathing smoke,
He pants beside the sea.
He bears the dead man to his dead,
He takes the blushing bride,
The mother from her crying babe,
The lover from his pride;
With revelry of Summer glee
Sometimes he laugheth wide.
He takes the blushing bride,
The mother from her crying babe,
The lover from his pride;
With revelry of Summer glee
Sometimes he laugheth wide.
Sometimes his head is decked with bloom,
Sometimes with blackest woe;
With crushed and burned and bleeding shapes
He runneth to and fro;
The tortured victims of his sport
The spoil he layeth low.
Sometimes with blackest woe;
With crushed and burned and bleeding shapes
He runneth to and fro;
The tortured victims of his sport
The spoil he layeth low.
O dragon! what have I to do
To call thee evil names?
I hold thee still in grateful grace,
For all thy freaks or flames;
I call thee friend, unto mine end,
Though any other blames.
To call thee evil names?
40
For all thy freaks or flames;
I call thee friend, unto mine end,
Though any other blames.
Yea! though thou bring me into death,
My soul records the day
Thou didst bring more than life to me
Along thy shining way;
The shapes my sad heart fainted for,
The gift I dared not pray.
My soul records the day
Thou didst bring more than life to me
Along thy shining way;
The shapes my sad heart fainted for,
The gift I dared not pray.
Therefore my blessing go with thee
By mountain or by shore;
Like some sweet sound of psalm or hymn
I hear thy shrieking roar;
Thy good to me shall light on thee
In praise forever more.
By mountain or by shore;
Like some sweet sound of psalm or hymn
I hear thy shrieking roar;
Thy good to me shall light on thee
In praise forever more.
| Poems | |