Classic Poem

Mirror-still the bay, no breeze molesting,
Sailors drop the sails, the mill is resting.
Oxen to the verdant fields may fare now,
All things for the day of peace prepare now.

Through the forest runs a woodcock-roading,
From yon porch accordion notes are flooding,
Paths are swept and raked,—no task is trifled,—
Fruit-trees watered, lilac bushes rifled.

Children's dolls are lying in disorder
Under tulip blossoms by the border.
In the grass a ball, well hid from spying,
In the water-butt a trumpet's lying.

Shutters have been closed, and people hasten
Now to draw the bolts, the locks to fasten.
Last the mistress leaves no candle gleaming;
Soon the household will be lost in dreaming.

While the warm June night so softly drowses,
And no breeze the weather-vane arouses,
On the shore the waves are lightly sounding,
Where the swell of last week's storm is pounding.