 | Poems and Sonnets |  |
129
AUGUST—AN IDYLL.
Young they were, and hand in hand
Across the fields they wandered,
Swiftly passing through the land
A wealth of love they squandered
That afternoon, when hand in hand
They loved, and laughed, and pondered!
Across the fields they wandered,
Swiftly passing through the land
A wealth of love they squandered
That afternoon, when hand in hand
They loved, and laughed, and pondered!
The August sun across the sheaves
Shot slantwise bolts of light,
Beneath the nodding golden eaves
They sat, till hint of night,
With cool hand laid upon the leaves,
Brought back to them their sight;
Shot slantwise bolts of light,
Beneath the nodding golden eaves
They sat, till hint of night,
With cool hand laid upon the leaves,
Brought back to them their sight;
130
Sight gone astray a weary way,
The world long left behind
That afternoon of August day—
We know that love is blind,
And eyes of those who own his sway
The best thing blindness find.
The world long left behind
That afternoon of August day—
We know that love is blind,
And eyes of those who own his sway
The best thing blindness find.
Now cooler lips the dews caress,
And gentle shadows fall,
And fold around the maiden's dress,
And homeward lovers call,
And back they go, two hearts a-glow,
Beside the low grey wall;
And gentle shadows fall,
And fold around the maiden's dress,
And homeward lovers call,
And back they go, two hearts a-glow,
Beside the low grey wall;
I do not think that either will
In time to come forget
One single whisper of the rill,
One single leaflet wet
That night with dew they wandered through,
One waft of mignonette!
In time to come forget
One single whisper of the rill,
One single leaflet wet
That night with dew they wandered through,
One waft of mignonette!
131
I think that many a kiss will stay
On brow, and eyes, and hand,
That many a blithesome breeze will play,
And many a wintry strand
Be white with snow before they go,
These, into Lethe's land!
On brow, and eyes, and hand,
That many a blithesome breeze will play,
And many a wintry strand
Be white with snow before they go,
These, into Lethe's land!
For one such day is brighter far
Than years that slowly crawl,
And single sight of one such star,
Such sight as did befall
These two to see, will better be
Than constellations all.
Than years that slowly crawl,
And single sight of one such star,
Such sight as did befall
These two to see, will better be
Than constellations all.
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