 | Shifting Scenes and Other Poems |  |
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SPRING AND SUMMER.
I. SPRING.
With joy the heart of Earth o'erfills;
Sun-linked and golden go the hours;
With fainter murmur from the hills
Voluptuously the sleek-tongued rills
Are lipping honeyed mouths of flowers.
Sun-linked and golden go the hours;
With fainter murmur from the hills
Voluptuously the sleek-tongued rills
Are lipping honeyed mouths of flowers.
In garden-plots the tulip blows,
The Bacchanalian peonies burn,
And pansies, in delicious rows,
Make purple glooms, in whose repose
Their golden hearts like stars outyearn.
The Bacchanalian peonies burn,
And pansies, in delicious rows,
Make purple glooms, in whose repose
Their golden hearts like stars outyearn.
Blowing cherry-blooms fall and fall
Silently, through the silent noon;
Peach-blossoms stain the garden-wall,—
The very air, with the odour of all,
In a poppied trance doth swim and swoon.
Silently, through the silent noon;
Peach-blossoms stain the garden-wall,—
The very air, with the odour of all,
In a poppied trance doth swim and swoon.
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Rich hazes over the orient creep;
With a softer glory swells the beam;
Trembles of splendour surge and sweep;
In a flood of light the orchards sleep
Thick bloomed, and gorgeous as a dream.
With a softer glory swells the beam;
Trembles of splendour surge and sweep;
In a flood of light the orchards sleep
Thick bloomed, and gorgeous as a dream.
Like a gold-tipped spear, the high church spire
Doth gleam and lighten on the view,
With its glowing vane that would aspire
In bickering light, with a tongue of fire,
To hold high converse with the blue.
Doth gleam and lighten on the view,
With its glowing vane that would aspire
In bickering light, with a tongue of fire,
To hold high converse with the blue.
Spring in Earth's pulses burns and glows;
In bursts of music pass her hours;
Her brimming being overflows,
Her life is fragrant as a rose,
And her deep heart goes out in flowers.
In bursts of music pass her hours;
Her brimming being overflows,
Her life is fragrant as a rose,
And her deep heart goes out in flowers.
II. SUMMER.
Lo! lazy Summer, swarthy in the sun,
Lies panting, with bare breasts, upon the hills,
Swathing her limbs in hazes warm and dun,
Where splendours into dusky splendours run,
And sultry glory all the heaven o'erfills.
Lies panting, with bare breasts, upon the hills,
Swathing her limbs in hazes warm and dun,
Where splendours into dusky splendours run,
And sultry glory all the heaven o'erfills.
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Not a white dimple stirs amid the corn,
Not a low ripple shivers through the leaves;—
Since, wrapped in gold and crimson gleams unshorn,
Came, flashing through the east, the regal morn,
No throated twitterings gurgle round the eaves.
Not a low ripple shivers through the leaves;—
Since, wrapped in gold and crimson gleams unshorn,
Came, flashing through the east, the regal morn,
No throated twitterings gurgle round the eaves.
Flooded in sunny silence sleep the kine;
In languid murmurs brooklets float and flow;
The quaint farm-gables in the rich light shine,
And round them jasmined honeysuckles twine,
And close beside them sun-flowers burn and blow.
In languid murmurs brooklets float and flow;
The quaint farm-gables in the rich light shine,
And round them jasmined honeysuckles twine,
And close beside them sun-flowers burn and blow.
Amid the growing heat I lie me down,
And into visions swarms the moted air;
Gleams up before me many a famous town,
Pillared and crested with a regal crown
Outshimmering in an orient purple glare;
And into visions swarms the moted air;
Gleams up before me many a famous town,
Pillared and crested with a regal crown
Outshimmering in an orient purple glare;
Lo! lowly Tadmor, burning in its sands—
Baelbeck and Babylon:—I see slow streams
Gliding by mosque and minaret,—see the gleams
Of seas in sunset—slips of shining strands,
And drowsy Bagdad buried deep in dreams;—
Baelbeck and Babylon:—I see slow streams
Gliding by mosque and minaret,—see the gleams
Of seas in sunset—slips of shining strands,
And drowsy Bagdad buried deep in dreams;—
See swarthy monarchs flushed in purple rings
Of silken courtiers;—through half-open doors
Catch the spice-odours, and the cool of springs
Leaping for ever in a maze of wings,—
See light forms dancing over pearly floors;—
Of silken courtiers;—through half-open doors
Catch the spice-odours, and the cool of springs
Leaping for ever in a maze of wings,—
See light forms dancing over pearly floors;—
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Sleeping seraglios, spire, and tremulous dome
Winking in drowsy splendour all the day,—
See forest haunts where thick the lions roam,—
See thirsty panthers splashed in bloody foam
Leap terrible as lightnings on their prey;
Winking in drowsy splendour all the day,—
See forest haunts where thick the lions roam,—
See thirsty panthers splashed in bloody foam
Leap terrible as lightnings on their prey;
Or stand with Cortez on a mountain-peak
Above the Aztec city,—see unrolled
Gem-threaded shores of Montezuma weak,—
See the white temples swarming thick and sleek,
And sunny streets stretch up by towers of gold;
Above the Aztec city,—see unrolled
Gem-threaded shores of Montezuma weak,—
See the white temples swarming thick and sleek,
And sunny streets stretch up by towers of gold;
See silken sails float by, ambrosial,
Laden with spices, up a Persian glen;
Or stand on Lebanon, 'mid the cedars tall,
Or hear the soft and silver fall
Of water down a jut of Darien.
Laden with spices, up a Persian glen;
Or stand on Lebanon, 'mid the cedars tall,
Or hear the soft and silver fall
Of water down a jut of Darien.
But lo! a waking shiver in the trees,
And voices 'mid the hay-cocks in the glen;
The sun is setting; and the crimson seas
Are skaken into splendour by the breeze,
And all the busy world is up again!
And voices 'mid the hay-cocks in the glen;
The sun is setting; and the crimson seas
Are skaken into splendour by the breeze,
And all the busy world is up again!
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