 | The hours of the passion and other poems |  |
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THE FIELDS OF LAVENDER
The fields, the fields of lavender!
Beneath the deep-blue August sky,
Before the startled wayfarer,
Spread up and down in waves they lie;
So unexpected, so unknown,
They seem a secret of their own.
Beneath the deep-blue August sky,
Before the startled wayfarer,
Spread up and down in waves they lie;
So unexpected, so unknown,
They seem a secret of their own.
You come upon a sheeted sea
Of one rich amethystine hue,
Spread out before you suddenly,
Far as the dazzled eye can view;
Hid in a hollow of the land,
A purple hollow vast and grand.
Of one rich amethystine hue,
Spread out before you suddenly,
Far as the dazzled eye can view;
Hid in a hollow of the land,
A purple hollow vast and grand.
Purple and purple, such a shade
As was not dreamed that earth could show;
The light and ruffling breezes made
The purple shadow deep below:
Down in the valley, up the hill,
One soft unbroken purple still.
As was not dreamed that earth could show;
The light and ruffling breezes made
The purple shadow deep below:
Down in the valley, up the hill,
One soft unbroken purple still.
With white wings fluttering to and fro,
White wings of countless butterflies,
That like minute cloud-shadows go
Over the rustling field, that lies
As a strange world revealed to sight,
Where the freed souls have taken flight.
White wings of countless butterflies,
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Over the rustling field, that lies
As a strange world revealed to sight,
Where the freed souls have taken flight.
The lovely, loving eyes rejoice,
Gazing in rapture and surprise;
The glad and innocent young voice
Of boyhood, at my side, replies,
With worshipping, delighted awe,
‘In all my life I never saw
Gazing in rapture and surprise;
The glad and innocent young voice
Of boyhood, at my side, replies,
With worshipping, delighted awe,
‘In all my life I never saw
Nor knew there could be anything
So beautiful!’—O child! thine eyes
Have known, since that look lingering,
The endless fields of Paradise.
Yet keep through all the starry shine,
That hour which once was ours and thine!
So beautiful!’—O child! thine eyes
Have known, since that look lingering,
The endless fields of Paradise.
Yet keep through all the starry shine,
That hour which once was ours and thine!
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