Classic Poem

A STUDY IN METRE

— Summer is sweet,
In the air of the tepid night,
— In the drowsy breeze,
— In the blossoming trees; —
— Summer is sweet
— With its scented heat
And the lazy hours that ease

— Every heart
From the toil of the day's hot light
— And ceaseless throes,
— With their pale repose.
— Every heart
— Sips of its part
Of the love that summer bestows.

— Laggard and sweet,
The evening glides on its way;
— And the glistening star
— From the eastern bar,
— Laggard and sweet,
— With golden feet,
Climbs stilly the skies from afar.

— Liquid and light,
A tremulous harmony sings
— O'er the sleepy guitar
— Its reverberate bar,
— Liquid and light,
— To the moon-paled night,
And the love of the glistening star.

— Heavy perfumes
From the vine that grows, clambering still,
— Wondrous and fair
— On the trellis' tall stair, —
— Heavy perfumes,
— Through the moonlit glooms,
Drift away from her purple hair.

— Night rustles late
Through the trees with a measured tread;
— And the late, late word
— Have the gold stars heard;
— Night rustles late
— To the eastern gate,
By the goad of the east-light spurred.

— Swift are the hours
Now sped on their dusk-feathered wing
— To the land of the west,
— To the land of their rest;
— Swift are the hours
— O'er the dew-sprent flowers
Away, by the grey dawn pressed!

— Slower and slower
Dies the song of the low-voiced guitar;
— Like the bend of a stream,
— The whole to a dream,
— Slower and slow,
— With a silvery flow
Ebbs away. . . .

— Away, while slow
To the fields of the poppies of sleep
— I wander, I tread
— In the maze of their bed
— Away, while slow
— And deep and low
In their peace I lay my head.