Читать книгу The Triumph of Music, and Other Lyrics - Cawein Madison Julius - Страница 15

Its rotting fence one scarcely sees

Through sumach and wild blackberries,

Thick elder and the white wild-rose,

Big ox-eyed daisies where the bees

Hang droning in repose.

The limber lizards glide away

Gray on its moss and lichens gray;

Warm butterflies float in the sun,

Gay Ariels of the lonesome day;

And there the ground squirrels run.

The red-bird stays one note to lift;

High overhead dark swallows drift;

'Neath sun-soaked clouds of beaten cream,

Through which hot bits of azure sift,

The gray hawks soar and scream.

Among the pungent weeds they fill

Dry grasshoppers pipe with a will;

And in the grass-grown ruts, where stirs

The basking snake, mole-crickets shrill;

O'er head the locust whirrs.

At evening, when the sad West turns

To dusky Night a cheek that burns,

The tree-toads in the wild-plum sing,

And ghosts of long-dead flowers and ferns

The wind wakes whispering.