Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/123

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113

May, violet, primrose, all and each
She welcomes with a kindly speech,
Which, passing on the air,
Cheers every root; nor ill content
Leans the low daisy on the bent,
For she hath had her share.

Meek subject, Evening, of thy reign,
The river vails his glittering train,
And round the misty field
Flows silently, his easier breast,
(With warring lights no more distrest,)
Half seen and half concealed.

With what a spirit-light the trees
Attire themselves at thy first breeze!
—A light as it were thrown
From that deep joy that works like grief;
Which now in every delicate leaf
Is settling into stone.

Nor lifeless things alone obey
Thy rule: beneath the alders gray
The dazzling gnats appear,
Thy minstrelsy!—a humble quire,
Yet joyful as the festive lyre
If but the heart can hear.

I