 | The Poems of A. C. Benson |  |
264
EVENSONG
Thrush, sing clear, for the spring is here:
Sing, for the summer is near, is near,
Sing, for the summer is near, is near,
All day long thou hast plied thy song,
Hardly hid from the hurrying throng:
Hardly hid from the hurrying throng:
Now the shade of the trees is laid
Down the meadow and up the glade:
Down the meadow and up the glade:
Now when the air grows cool and rare
Birds of the cloister fall to prayer:
Birds of the cloister fall to prayer:
Here is the bed of the patient dead,
Shoulder by shoulder, head by head.
Shoulder by shoulder, head by head.
Sweet bells swing in the tower, and ring
Men to worship before their King.
Men to worship before their King.
See they come as the grave bells hum,
Restless voices awhile are dumb:
Restless voices awhile are dumb:
More and more on the sacred floor
Feet that linger about the door:
Feet that linger about the door:
265
Sweet sounds swim through the vaulting dim,
Psalm and canticle, vesper hymn.
Psalm and canticle, vesper hymn.
That is the way that mortals pray:
Which is the sweeter? brown bird, say!
Which is the sweeter? brown bird, say!
Which were best for me? both are blest;
Sing thy sweetest and leave the rest.
Sing thy sweetest and leave the rest.
| The Poems of A. C. Benson | |