 | The national jubilee, and other miscellaneous poems |  |
21
NOON.
The effulgent sun with widening sweep,
Has clomb the vast ethereal deep—
His car is wheeling to the west,
The earth with vivid heat oppress'd.
The trembling dew, and that bright o'erlaid
The orchard-fruits and tender blade—
The mist, that lac'd the mountain round,
As with a silver girdle bound,
Have all departed like a dream,
Before the quenchless solar beam.
Has clomb the vast ethereal deep—
His car is wheeling to the west,
The earth with vivid heat oppress'd.
The trembling dew, and that bright o'erlaid
The orchard-fruits and tender blade—
The mist, that lac'd the mountain round,
As with a silver girdle bound,
Have all departed like a dream,
Before the quenchless solar beam.
No speck in ether meets the eye,
But all is one unclouded sky—
A sea of light from east to west,
Without an isle, on which to rest
Th' exhausted vision, gazing bent,
Tracing the glowing firmament;
But object, none appears, save one—
Th' empyreal—dazzling—blinding sun.
The eye can only glance its fire,
Or would the tender nerves expire,
Which to the soul, the forms, convey
Of wintry scenes, or those of May,
When nature hails her bridal day.
Should in the element remote,
A speck, a cloud, attempt to float,
And spread and overshade the light,
'Twould instant perish from the sight.
But all is one unclouded sky—
A sea of light from east to west,
Without an isle, on which to rest
Th' exhausted vision, gazing bent,
Tracing the glowing firmament;
But object, none appears, save one—
Th' empyreal—dazzling—blinding sun.
The eye can only glance its fire,
Or would the tender nerves expire,
Which to the soul, the forms, convey
Of wintry scenes, or those of May,
When nature hails her bridal day.
Should in the element remote,
A speck, a cloud, attempt to float,
And spread and overshade the light,
'Twould instant perish from the sight.
22
The streaming exhalations rare,
Ascend upon the sultry air,
Vibrating, trembling on the eye,
Like things of brief vitality;—
Yet so intense their flickering maze,
We scarce can hold a moment's gaze,
Or they the lucid orbs would sear,
And quench their beams with burning tear.
Ascend upon the sultry air,
Vibrating, trembling on the eye,
Like things of brief vitality;—
Yet so intense their flickering maze,
We scarce can hold a moment's gaze,
Or they the lucid orbs would sear,
And quench their beams with burning tear.
No zephyrs stir the poplar boughs—
No loosen'd ox is seen to browse
The luscious growth, that faints beneath,
Like innocence depriv'd of breath.
No loosen'd ox is seen to browse
The luscious growth, that faints beneath,
Like innocence depriv'd of breath.
Quick life in solid millions springs
From every leaf, on countless wings:—
From every bud, from every blade,
On which the warming sun is laid,
Pour forms in various fashions forth,
Innumerous as the sands of earth—
And like those sands when hurl'd on high,
Thick sparkling in the sunny sky,
The teaming swarms profuse appear,
Bright wheeling in the noon-day sphere.
From every leaf, on countless wings:—
From every bud, from every blade,
On which the warming sun is laid,
Pour forms in various fashions forth,
Innumerous as the sands of earth—
And like those sands when hurl'd on high,
Thick sparkling in the sunny sky,
The teaming swarms profuse appear,
Bright wheeling in the noon-day sphere.
The birds, that warbl'd in the breeze,
Sit mute and pensive in the trees.
The heifer from the pasture hies,
To seek relief from galling flies;
The flocks oppress'd, with motion slow,
Weary, and panting as they go,
Forsake the fields and grassy blades,
To search for rest in cooling shades.
Sit mute and pensive in the trees.
The heifer from the pasture hies,
To seek relief from galling flies;
The flocks oppress'd, with motion slow,
Weary, and panting as they go,
23
To search for rest in cooling shades.
The heavy oxen drag with pain,
The plough along the furrow'd plain;
While slow they move with parching thirst,
Buried in clouds of rising dust,
The peasant, reeking with his toil,
Directs them o'er the planted soil,
Between the curling blades of corn,
Anxious to hear the noon-time horn
Demand him from his labour, hence,
To shelter from the violence
Of rays, that seem to scorch the field,
As though the living earth would yield.
The plough along the furrow'd plain;
While slow they move with parching thirst,
Buried in clouds of rising dust,
The peasant, reeking with his toil,
Directs them o'er the planted soil,
Between the curling blades of corn,
Anxious to hear the noon-time horn
Demand him from his labour, hence,
To shelter from the violence
Of rays, that seem to scorch the field,
As though the living earth would yield.
Each beast that walks and bird that flies,
Seeks a retreat from burning skies—
The flowers that smil'd like virgins, boon,
Wither and hang their heads at noon.
All nature droops with languid breath,
Fainting, the glowing earth beneath:
And man, with dust and sweat bespent,
While his lax'd veins with heat ferment,
Withdraws to some sequester'd bank,
Where grapes and alders clustering, rank,
Shut out the burning heavens from view—
(The flowers scarce dried their morning dew)
Stretches his length at listless ease,
Hush'd to repose with song of bees,
And slumbers till the orb of day
Begins to quench its fervid ray—
The shadows to the orient bent,
And zephyrs cool the element—
He wakens, vigorous to pursue
His evening toils, till sinks from view
The sun, beyond the mountain pines,
And all to mellow peace resigns.
Seeks a retreat from burning skies—
The flowers that smil'd like virgins, boon,
Wither and hang their heads at noon.
All nature droops with languid breath,
Fainting, the glowing earth beneath:
And man, with dust and sweat bespent,
While his lax'd veins with heat ferment,
Withdraws to some sequester'd bank,
Where grapes and alders clustering, rank,
Shut out the burning heavens from view—
(The flowers scarce dried their morning dew)
Stretches his length at listless ease,
Hush'd to repose with song of bees,
24
Begins to quench its fervid ray—
The shadows to the orient bent,
And zephyrs cool the element—
He wakens, vigorous to pursue
His evening toils, till sinks from view
The sun, beyond the mountain pines,
And all to mellow peace resigns.
| The national jubilee, and other miscellaneous poems | |