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Laurella and other poems

by John Todhunter
Todhunter, John (1839-1916)

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[section]
  
[dedication]
collapse sectionI. 
I.—TALES.
  
LAURELLA.
  
THE DAUGHTER OF HIPPOCRATES.
  
THE LOST VIOLIN-THEME.
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II.—MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
  
SPRING SONG.
  
MADRIGAL.
  
CÄCILCHEN AT THE PIANO.
  
HYMN FOR A MAY MORNING.
  
SONG.
  
A SUMMER NIGHT.
  
HERTHA.
  
THISTLEDOWN.
  
SONG.
  
IN AUGUST.
  
IN A GONDOLA.
  
A FRUIT PIECE.
  
A SKETCH FROM NATURE.
  
IN SEPTEMBER.
  
ROMAUNT OF THE MYRTLE.
  
CHORALE.
  
ANASTASIS.
  
THE WASTE OF NATURE.
  
THE CHRIST-CHILD.
  
ODE TO DYSPEPSIA.
  
THE SEXTON'S DAUGHTER.
  
HOW IT STRIKES THE CULTURE PHILOSOPHER.
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III.—THE MYSTIC.
  
A VISION OF DEATH.
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A SONG OF EXPERIENCE.
 I. 
I.—VITA NUOVA.
 II. 
II.—DEATH IN LIFE.
  
LOST.
  
FOUND.
  
A SONG OF REMORSE.
  
THE BOTTOMLESS PIT.
  
A SONG OF SUSTAINMENT.
  
THERE SHALL COME FALSE CHRISTS.
  
PARADISE LOST.
  
PARADISE FOUND.
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A SONG OF SECRETS.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
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IV.—SONNETS.
  
TO MENDELSSOHN.
  
THE FIRST SPRING DAY.
  
BEETHOVEN.
  
ROSAMUND'S BOWER.
  
A JUNE DAY.
  
AT LLANBERIS.
  
IN THE LOUVRE.
  
IN THE HASLI-THAL.
  
PSYCHE PAIDOTROPHE.
  
A DAIGNTIE-CONSEATED SONNET.
  
NESSUN MAGGIOR' DOLORE!
  
LOVE'S FLIGHT.
  
LOVE'S LITURGY.
  
MERLIN IN THE TOILS.
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V.—PRIMITIÆ.
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SCENES FROM THE MASQUE OF PSYCHE.
 1. 
PART FIRST.
 2. 
PART SECOND.
  
MAY SUNSHINE.
  
A MIDSUMMER-NIGHT'S DREAM.
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A MOONLIGHT SONATA.
 I. 
I. ADAGIO.
 II. 
II. ALLEGRETTO.
 III. 
III. MINORE.
 IV. 
IV. SCHERZO.
 V. 
V. ANDANTE TRANQUILLO.
 VI. 
VI. ANDANTE CON MOTO.
 VII. 
VII. ADAGIO MISTERIOSO.
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POESY; RHAPSODIA.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
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V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.

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221

A JUNE DAY.

The very spirit of summer breathes to-day,
Here where I sun me in a dreamy mood,
And laps the sultry leas, and seems to brood
Tenderly o'er those hazed hills far away.
The murmurous air, fragrant of new-mown hay,
Drowses; save when martins at gleeful feud,
Gleam past in undulant flight. Yon hillside wood
Is drowned in sunshine, till its green looks grey.
No scrap of cloud is in the still blue sky,
Vaporous with heat, from which the fore-ground trees
Stand out, each leaf cut sharp. A whetted scythe
Makes rustic music for me as I lie,
Glad in the mirth of distant children blithe,
Drinking the season's sweetness to the lees.
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