Читать книгу The Poems of Madison Cawein. Volume 2 (of 5) - Cawein Madison Julius - Страница 25

How fresh the purple clover

Smells in its veil of rain!

And where the leaves brim over

How musky wild the lane!

See, how the sodden acres,

Forlorn of all their rakers,

Their hay and harvest makers,

Look green as spring again.

Drops from the trumpet-flowers

Rain on us as we pass;

And every zephyr showers,

From tilted leaf or grass,

Clear beads of moisture, seeming

Pale, pointed emeralds gleaming;

Where, through the green boughs streaming,

The daylight strikes like glass.

How dewy, clean and fragrant

Look now the green and gold!—

And breezes, trailing vagrant,

Spill all the spice they hold.

The west begins to glimmer;

And shadows, stretching slimmer,

Make gray the ways; and dimmer

Grow field and forest old.

Beyond those rainy reaches

Of woodland, far and lone,

A whippoorwill beseeches;

And now an owlet’s moan

Drifts faint upon the hearing.—

These say the dusk is nearing.

And, see, the heavens, clearing,

Take on a tender tone.

How feebly chirps the cricket!

How thin the tree-toads cry!

Blurred in the wild-rose thicket

Gleams wet the firefly.—

This way toward home is nearest;

Of weeds and briers clearest....

We ’ll meet to-morrow, dearest;

Till then, dear heart, good-by.