 | Fantasy and Passion |  |
THE ACORN.
I find you nestling in the balmy grass,
Here where the knotty oak so stoutly stands,
While tremulous breezes with rich fragrance pass,
Like ghosts with viewless flowers in viewless hands!
Here where the knotty oak so stoutly stands,
While tremulous breezes with rich fragrance pass,
Like ghosts with viewless flowers in viewless hands!
Frail germ of strength, I scan with eager heed,
As from the summer sward I lift you up,
The tawny oval of your polished bead
Bulging so smoothly from its rugged cup.
As from the summer sward I lift you up,
The tawny oval of your polished bead
Bulging so smoothly from its rugged cup.
And now with heart where happy fancies meet,
I stoop, and in the yielding meadow make
A grave wherefrom, with resurrection sweet,
Some future sun shall win you to awake!
I stoop, and in the yielding meadow make
A grave wherefrom, with resurrection sweet,
Some future sun shall win you to awake!
And while I plant you thus, I seem to plant
Flutings of silver winds in ample boughs
That weave a gloom where sunbeams richly slant,
Bees murmur, and the lazy cattle browse.
Flutings of silver winds in ample boughs
That weave a gloom where sunbeams richly slant,
Bees murmur, and the lazy cattle browse.
And now I seem to plant, below the green
Of these fair ungrown boughs, at eve or morn,
The first delicious thrilling kiss between
Two fond young lovers that are yet unborn!
Of these fair ungrown boughs, at eve or morn,
The first delicious thrilling kiss between
Two fond young lovers that are yet unborn!
| Fantasy and Passion | |