Poems
Drowsing of flies, winds musical and dim,
Where, full of sighs, the branches waved o'er him.
And where the lithe and glowing bracken spread
He knew the intervening sunlight shed
A stream of shrouded gold which flowed between
The cool transparency of lucid green—
And evermore upon his sleeping eyes
Flashed the bright wings of morning as they rise
And make an opal of the waking skies.
And when the drowsy day, not wholly gone,
With clouds upon her forehead, lingers on
To welcome twilight with untroubled hands
And quiet eyes, wherein a presence stands
Of thought grown portion of the infinite—
He saw upon her breast the parting light
Flash like a jewel, and when twilight grew
A thing declared he heard the winds pursue
Where, full of sighs, the branches waved o'er him.
And where the lithe and glowing bracken spread
He knew the intervening sunlight shed
A stream of shrouded gold which flowed between
The cool transparency of lucid green—
And evermore upon his sleeping eyes
Flashed the bright wings of morning as they rise
And make an opal of the waking skies.
And when the drowsy day, not wholly gone,
With clouds upon her forehead, lingers on
To welcome twilight with untroubled hands
And quiet eyes, wherein a presence stands
Of thought grown portion of the infinite—
He saw upon her breast the parting light
Flash like a jewel, and when twilight grew
A thing declared he heard the winds pursue
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