Glimpses of Antiquity Being a collection of metrical sketches, in the form of ballads, lyrics, &c., with main reference to mediaeval times or classical subjects. By George F. Preston [i.e. J. B. L. Warren] |
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THE RAIN-NYMPHS' SONG. |
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 | Glimpses of Antiquity |  |
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THE RAIN-NYMPHS' SONG.
Merry days of summer ye are ended,
And the lark forgets to trill his song.
Mist and cloud o'er heaven's gray arch are blended,
No blue skies as when the spring is young.
And the lark forgets to trill his song.
Mist and cloud o'er heaven's gray arch are blended,
No blue skies as when the spring is young.
Mournful winds are carolling their numbers,
And the year has worn herself away
With the nurture of ungrateful children,
Recking little of her near decay.
And the year has worn herself away
With the nurture of ungrateful children,
Recking little of her near decay.
Then the ilex answers to the elm-tree
Asking shelter from the northern blast,
“Ye are but poor flimsy gauds of sunshine,
Ye must chill when your gay sun is past.
Asking shelter from the northern blast,
“Ye are but poor flimsy gauds of sunshine,
Ye must chill when your gay sun is past.
I and Daphne are of hardier courage,
Fair or foul can seldom come amiss.
Whether stillest breath of timorous breezes,
Or bluff Boreas dash a sturdy kiss.”
Fair or foul can seldom come amiss.
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Or bluff Boreas dash a sturdy kiss.”
Rain and mist and overflooded river,
Weave the measure of our Hyad dance,
And the myriad starlights o'er us quiver,
As the gleaming spheres of Heaven advance.
Weave the measure of our Hyad dance,
And the myriad starlights o'er us quiver,
As the gleaming spheres of Heaven advance.
Shower and cloud, and alternative brightness,
Mantling under our aërial train;
As with footsteps of eternal lightness,
Chide we on the slowly hinging wain.
Mantling under our aërial train;
As with footsteps of eternal lightness,
Chide we on the slowly hinging wain.
Daughters seven of Atlas! purest ether
Melts away at our ambrosial eyes;
Fades the sunshine from the cloudless weather,
At our beck the glorious tempests rise.
Melts away at our ambrosial eyes;
Fades the sunshine from the cloudless weather,
At our beck the glorious tempests rise.
| Glimpses of Antiquity | |