 | The Germ, Issue #2: Thoughts Toward Nature in Poetry, Literature, and Art |  |
I. Noon Rest.
Following the river's course,
We come to where the sedges plant
Their thickest twinings at its source ;—
A spot that makes the heart to pant,
Feeling its rest and beauty. Pull
The reeds' tops thro' your fingers ; dull
Your sense of the world's life ; and toss
The thought away of hap or cross :
Then shall the river seem to call
Your name, and the slow quiet crawl
Between your eyelids like a swoon ;
And all the sounds at heat of noon
And all the silence shall so sing
Your eyes asleep as that no wing
Of bird in rustling by, no prone
Willow-branch on your hair, no drone
Droning about and past you,—nought
May soon avail to rouse you, caught
With sleep thro' heat in the sun's light,—
So good, tho' losing sound and sight,
You scarce would waken, if you might.
We come to where the sedges plant
Their thickest twinings at its source ;—
A spot that makes the heart to pant,
Feeling its rest and beauty. Pull
The reeds' tops thro' your fingers ; dull
Your sense of the world's life ; and toss
The thought away of hap or cross :
Then shall the river seem to call
Your name, and the slow quiet crawl
Between your eyelids like a swoon ;
And all the sounds at heat of noon
And all the silence shall so sing
Your eyes asleep as that no wing
Of bird in rustling by, no prone
Willow-branch on your hair, no drone
Droning about and past you,—nought
May soon avail to rouse you, caught
With sleep thro' heat in the sun's light,—
So good, tho' losing sound and sight,
You scarce would waken, if you might.
| The Germ, Issue #2: Thoughts Toward Nature in Poetry, Literature, and Art | |