Myth and Romance eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 64 pages of information about Myth and Romance.

Myth and Romance eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 64 pages of information about Myth and Romance.

III

And for a while it moves me to lie down
  Here on the spot his god-head sanctified: 
Mayhap some dream he dreamed may lingert brown
  And young as joy, around the forestside;
Some dream within whose heart lives no disdain
For such as I whose love is sweet and sane;
That may repeat, so none but I may hear—­
  As one might tell a pearl-strung rosary—­
  Some epic that the trees have learned to croon,
Some lyric whispered in the wild-flower’s ear,
  Whose murmurous lines are sung by bird and bee,
  And all the insects of the night and noon.

IV

For, all around me, upon field and hill,
  Enchantment lies as of mysterious flutes;
As if the music of a god’s good-will
  Had taken on material attributes
In blooms, like chords; and in the water-gleam,
That runs its silvery scales from stream to stream;
In sunbeam bars, up which the butterfly,
  A golden note, vibrates then flutters on—­
  Inaudible tunes, blown on the pipes of Pan,
That have assumed a visible entity,
  And drugged the air with beauty so, a Faun,
  Behold, I seem, and am no more a man.

The Rain-Crow

I

Can freckled August,—­drowsing warm and blonde
  Beside a wheat-shock in the white-topped mead,
In her hot hair the oxeyed daisies wound,—­
  O bird of rain, lend aught but sleepy heed
  To thee? when no plumed weed, no feather’d seed
Blows by her; and no ripple breaks the pond,
  That gleams like flint between its rim of grasses,
  Through which the dragonfly forever passes
           Like splintered diamond.

II

Drouth weights the trees, and from the farmhouse eaves
  The locust, pulse-beat of the summer day,
Throbs; and the lane, that shambles under leaves
  Limp with the heat—­a league of rutty way—­
  Is lost in dust; and sultry scents of hay
Breathe from the panting meadows heaped with sheaves—­
  Now, now, O bird, what hint is there of rain,
  In thirsty heaven or on burning plain,
           That thy keen eye perceives?

III

But thou art right.  Thou prophesiest true. 
  For hardly hast thou ceased thy forecasting,
When, up the western fierceness of scorched blue,
  Great water-carrier winds their buckets bring
  Brimming with freshness.  How their dippers ring
And flash and rumble! lavishing dark dew
  On corn and forestland, that, streaming wet,
  Their hilly backs against the downpour set,
           Like giants vague in view.

IV

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Project Gutenberg
Myth and Romance from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.