Читать книгу Poems - William Anderson - Страница 13
No. VII.—MIDSUMMER.
ОглавлениеA blaze is in mine eyes
Of rich and balmy light; and on mine ear
A sound of melody is ringing clear,
Like carols in the skies:
And on my heart the while
There rests, like Love, when Hope is bright as this,
A charm to soothe, a thrill of good to bless;
A universal smile!
Is it a picture limned
By some high intellect where genius throngs?
Are these the echoes of celestial songs,
By angel-voices hymned?
Am I on earth, in air,
In heaven, or on the sea—with ocean's sights,
And ocean's sounds—that I partake delights,
And visions see so fair?
Ah, me! a shadow steals
From out the mountains, like a lurking grief;
As on our happy home, the silent thief
His hateful eye reveals;
Bringing me down from heaven
To this dull earth, whereon my footsteps tread—
The sky, so calm and pure above my head,
Health to my soul has given!
And now, before me placed,
What is there to rejoice the eye or ear?
All that the heart deems fair is surely here,
By God's own fingers traced:
And bounteously his gifts
He has bestowed upon the growing land;
Her paths are teeming from his lib'ral Hand,
That knows no grudging thrifts.
Up looks the toiling hind,
And wipes his brow, and rests upon his spade;
The idle herdsman, in the hawthorn shade,
A-weary lies reclined.
The village church is seen,
Light streaming through its windows, soft and fair,
Like rays of mercy, answering the prayer
Of penitence serene.
'Midst fairy scenes like these,
Whose fruitage beautiful allures each sense,
And whose green leaves, in blooming eloquence,
Exert their aim to please,
Can thought, in its career
Of joy, pause midway, and with care alight?—
Can fancy, eagle-winged, restrain its flight,
To dream of winter drear?
In noonday's warmest ray
We deem that darkness has our clime forsook:
Backward or forward we refuse to look;
But on the present stay.
Yet let not gloom be here!
The Earth rejoices now in Nature's prime;
Season of joy—the holiday of Time—
The Sabbath of the year!