Press enter after choosing selection

Poetry: A Noon Scene

Poetry: A Noon Scene image
Parent Issue
Day
26
Month
August
Year
1844
Copyright
Public Domain
Poem
OCR Text

Th o quict August noon is come, A slumberous sileneë filis the sky; The iields aro still, the woods are dunib, In glasay sleep the waters lie. And mark yon eoft white clouds that rest Above our valn, a moveless tbrong; The entile on the monntain's brca6t, Eujoy the gruieful shadow long. Oli hüv unlike those merry h'ours, Ja snniiy June, wben eailh laughs out, W'ien fresh winde inukc love to ilowr-rs; And .woodlands sing and waters shout. When in the grase sweet voicfs alk, And 6trains o' f tiny ntüsic swell Froni every mos6 cup o'f the rock, From ïnrinv a nanieless blossom's bcll. But now a joy too' deep for sound, A poace no oiher sonson knows. IIubIics the earih. and wraps the ground, The bloesingsof swoet repose. Away! I will not bc to-day The only slnve-to toil and care! Away. irom desk and dusk away! l'll be as idle as the air. 'Bcneath the open sky abioad, Among the j)íiiits nací breathing things; The sinless, poacelul works of God, l'll share the calm the segson brings. Come, then, in whose soft eye I sec The gentle mcaning oi the neur't, One day aniidsl the woods-with thee, Froni men and all tbcir cares apart. And wherc upon the meadow's bvcast, The shadow of the thicket lies, The blue wliite flowers thou gntlierest. Shall glow yet deeper near thine eyes. Come, when amid the cahn ])rofound, 1 turn those gentlc eyos torfeek, They, üke tlve lovcly landscape round, lnnocen.ee and peaceehali speak. Kest here, bonenth the lihimö'ving shado, And on the silem valfeys gaze, Winding und winding till they fade, In yon soft ring of sunimer rays. The village trees their sutnmits rcar Still as iis spire; and yonder íloclí At rest in those calm iields, appear As circled from thislifelcss rock, One tranquil mpunt the scene o'erlooks, There hush'dwinds their Sabbaih keep; "While a near ■hum from bees and brooks, Cornè faintly hke the brcath of sleep. Well might the ga?,cr dream, that when Worn with the struggle and the slrife, And heart-sick of the wrongsof men, The good forsako the scènes oflife. Like this deep quiet, that awhile Lingera the lovely landscape o'cr, Shall be the peace whose holy smile, Welcomes hím to a hnppier shore.