Читать книгу Songs of a Cheerful Wayfarer - Dunbar Hibbard Hudson - Страница 12

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How like a maid is nature in her moods;

To-day all smiles, to-morrow full of frowns.

Clothed in bedraggled garments are the woods,

Then bursting forth bedecked in wondrous gowns

Of green, in all the many varying shades

From light to dark—in dull or lustrous sheen.

On wind swept hill, in cool and moss clad glades,

Like maidens full of vigor, lithe and keen,

In contrast with the quiet, self-possessed;

The one, a hoyden, caring naught for dress;

The other careful, and if truth confessed,

Living on praise the grateful birds express.

When gentle breezes from the Southland blow

And nature's heart is warmed as with soft love,

Up from the east the cloud banks rise and grow;

A changing breeze her fickleness doth prove.

Oh, maiden fair! how kind, anon how cruel;

Thy very moods are surely thine attraction,

And to my passion only add fresh fuel,

Kindling anew the flames to my distraction.