 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
62
Shake from thee that Rain-drop.
1825.
Shake from thee that rain-drop—as pure as dew,
And open, sweet violet, thy foldings blue!
For the soft shower is over, the sun from the edge
Of the cloud hath streamed out on the young-leaved hedge;
The song of the blackbird is sweet in the larch;
The sky-lark sings on the rainbow's arch;
The breeze is as gentle as breeze may be,
It would sport with, but never would injure thee!
And open, sweet violet, thy foldings blue!
For the soft shower is over, the sun from the edge
Of the cloud hath streamed out on the young-leaved hedge;
The song of the blackbird is sweet in the larch;
The sky-lark sings on the rainbow's arch;
The breeze is as gentle as breeze may be,
It would sport with, but never would injure thee!
With her varied dress and her soothing hum,
To thee from afar hath the wild bee come;
She hath bent thy stalk—she hath dashed the rain
From thy head—and thy leaves expand again;
And the blended perfumes which, all around,
Arise from the herbs of the moistened ground,
From sweet-brier bush, and from hawthorn-tree,
Are forgot in the fragrance exhaled from thee!
To thee from afar hath the wild bee come;
She hath bent thy stalk—she hath dashed the rain
From thy head—and thy leaves expand again;
And the blended perfumes which, all around,
Arise from the herbs of the moistened ground,
From sweet-brier bush, and from hawthorn-tree,
Are forgot in the fragrance exhaled from thee!
63
The bee hath departed to other bowers,
To hum and to banquet on other flowers.
But a surer spoiler now is nigh,
With a rose-bright cheek, and a star-bright eye,
With hair like the sunbeams, and lips—but I pause,
For a father's pencil the portrait draws;
Enough, that no lovelier hand can be,
Than the dear little hand that now seizes thee!
To hum and to banquet on other flowers.
But a surer spoiler now is nigh,
With a rose-bright cheek, and a star-bright eye,
With hair like the sunbeams, and lips—but I pause,
For a father's pencil the portrait draws;
Enough, that no lovelier hand can be,
Than the dear little hand that now seizes thee!
| The Poetical Works of Robert Story | |