Читать книгу The Poems of Madison Cawein. Volume 2 (of 5) - Cawein Madison Julius - Страница 6

The whippoorwills are calling where

The golden west is graying;

“’Tis time,” they say, “to meet him there—

Why are you still delaying?

“He waits you where the old beech throws

Its gnarly shadow over

Wood violet and the bramble rose,

Frail lady-fern and clover.

“Where elder and the sumac peep

Above your garden’s paling,

Whereon, at noon, the lizards sleep,

Like lichen on the railing.

“Come! ere the early rising moon’s

Gold floods the violet valleys;

Where mists, like phantom picaroons

Anchor their stealthy galleys.

“Come! while the deepening amethyst

Of dusk above is falling—

’Tis time to tryst! ’tis time to tryst!”

The whippoorwills are calling.

They call you to these twilight ways

With dewy odor dripping—

Ah, girlhood, through the rosy haze

Come like a moonbeam slipping.