Читать книгу The Garden of Dreams - Cawein Madison Julius - Страница 20

Calling, the heron flies athwart the blue

That sleeps above it; reach on rocky reach

Of water sings by sycamore and beech,

In whose warm shade bloom lilies not a few.

It is a page whereon the sun and dew

Scrawl sparkling words in dawn's delicious speech;

A laboratory where the wood-winds teach,

Dissect each scent and analyze each hue.

Not otherwise than beautiful, doth it

Record the happ'nings of each summer day;

Where we may read, as in a catalogue,

When passed a thresher; when a load of hay;

Or when a rabbit; or a bird that lit;

And now a bare-foot truant and his dog.