Kentucky Poems - Cawein Madison Julius

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which burnt a tender fire;

      Or wan as Psyche's with desire.

      And down the orchard vistas, – young,

      A hickory basket by him swung,

      A straw-hat, 'gainst the sloping sun

      Drawn brim-broad o'er his face, – he strode;

      As if he looked to find some one,

      His eyes far-fixed beyond the road.

      Before him, like a living burr,

      Rattled the noisy grasshopper.

      And where the cows' melodious bells

      Trailed music up and down the dells,

      Beside the spring, that o'er the ground

      Went whimpering like a fretful hound,

      He saw her waiting, fair and slim,

      Her pail forgotten there, for him.

      Yellow as sunset skies and pale

      As fairy clouds that stay or sail

      Through azure vaults of summer, blue

      As summer heavens, the wildflowers grew;

      And blossoms on which spurts of light

      Fell laughing, like the lips one might

      Feign for a Hebe, or a girl

      Whose mouth is laughter-lit with pearl.

      Long ferns, in murmuring masses heaped;

      And mosses moist, in beryl steeped

      And musk aromas of the wood

      And silence of the solitude:

      And everything that near her blew

      The spring had showered thick with dew. —

      Across the rambling fence she leaned,

      Her fresh, round arms all white and bare;

      Her artless beauty, bonnet-screened,

      Rich-coloured with its auburn hair.

      A wood-thrush gurgled in a vine —

      Ah! 'tis his step, 'tis he she hears;

      The wild-rose smelt like some rare wine —

      He comes, ah, yes! 'tis he who nears.

      And her brown eyes and all her face

      Said welcome. And with rustic grace

      He leant beside her; and they had

      Some talk with youthful laughter glad:

      I know not what; I know but this

      Its final period was a kiss.

      SUMMER

I

      Hang out your loveliest star, O Night! O Night!

      Your richest rose, O Dawn!

      To greet sweet Summer, her, who, clothed in light,

      Leads Earth's best hours on.

      Hark! how the wild birds of the woods

      Throat it within the dewy solitudes!

      The brook sings low and soft,

      The trees make song,

      As, from her heaven aloft

      Comes blue-eyed Summer like a girl along.

II

      And as the Day, her lover, leads her in,

      How bright his beauty glows!

      How red his lips, that ever try to win

      Her mouth's delicious rose!

      And from the beating of his heart

      Warm winds arise and sighing thence depart;

      And from his eyes and hair

      The light and dew

      Fall round her everywhere,

      And Heaven above her is an arch of blue.

III

      Come to the forest, or the treeless meadows

      Deep with their hay or grain;

      Come where the hills lift high their thrones of shadows,

      Where tawny orchards reign.

      Come where the reapers whet the scythe;

      Where golden sheaves are heaped; where berriers blythe,

      With willow-basket and with pail,

      Swarm knoll and plain;

      Where flowers freckle every vale,

      And beauty goes with hands of berry-stain.

IV

      Come where the dragon-flies, a brassy blue,

      Flit round the wildwood streams,

      And, sucking at some horn of honey-dew,

      The wild-bee hums and dreams.

      Come where the butterfly waves wings of sleep,

      Gold-disked and mottled over blossoms deep;

      Come where beneath the rustic bridge

      The green frog cries;

      Or in the shade the rainbowed midge,

      Above the emerald pools, with murmurings flies.

V

      Come where the cattle browse within the brake,

      As red as oak and strong;

      Where far-off bells the echoes faintly wake,

      And milkmaids sing their song.

      Come where the vine-trailed rocks, with waters hoary,

      Tell to the sun some legend or some story;

      Or, where the sunset to the land

      Speaks words of gold;

      Where ripeness walks, a wheaten band

      Around her hair and blossoms manifold.

VI

      Come where the woods lift up their stalwart arms

      Unto the star-sown skies;

      Knotted and gnarled, that to the winds and storms

      Fling mighty rhapsodies:

      Or to the moon repeat what they have seen,

      When Night upon their shoulders vast doth lean.

      Come where the dew's clear syllable

      Drips from the rose;

      And where the fire-flies fill

      The night with golden music of their glows.

VII

      Now while the dingles and the vine-roofed glens

      Whisper their flowery tale

      Unto the silence; and the lakes and fens

      Unto the moonlight pale

      Murmur their rapture, let us seek her out,

      Her of the honey throat, and peachy pout,

      Summer! and at her feet,

      The love of old

      Lay like a sheaf of wheat,

      And of our hearts the purest gold of gold.

      TO SORROW

I

      O dark-eyed goddess of the marble brow,

      Whose look is silence and whose touch is night,

      Who walkest lonely through the world, O thou,

      Who sittest lonely with Life's blown-out light;

      Who in the hollow hours of night's noon

      Criest like some lost child;

      Whose

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