Classic Poem

I

The poets' May is dead and done
That warm and soft came shoulder-high
On Leda's twins; for now the sun
Scarce breaks the cold and cloudy sky.

But still by fields of grass and corn
With mantling green like blushes spread,
The milk-maid in the early morn
Trips with her milkpail on her head.

And still through mists that droop and float,
Beside the river lingering white,
Dew on his wings and in his note,
The lark goes singing out of sight.

And still the hawthorn blossoms blow;
The belted bee on nectar sups;
And still the dazzling daisies grow
Beside the golden buttercups.

II

G LOW-WORM-LIKE the daisies peer;
Roses in the thickets fade
Grudging every petal dear;
Swinging incense in the shade
The honeysuckle's chandelier
Twinkles down a shadowy glade.

Now is Nature's restful mood:
Death-still stands the sombre fir;
Hardly where the rushes brood
Something crawling makes a stir;
Hardly in the underwood
Russet pinions softly whirr.

III

A BOVE the shimmering square
Swallows climb the air;
Like crystal trees the fountain's shower,
A-bloom with many a rainbow flower.

Where the lake is deep
Water-lilies sleep,
Dreaming dreams with open eyes
Enchanted by the dragon-flies —

Azure dragon-flies,
Slivered from the skies,
Chased and burnished, joints and rings,
Elfin magic wands on wings.

Like an army dressed
In diamond mail and crest,
The silent light o'er park and town
In burning phalanxes comes down;

And lustrous ambuscades
In glittering streets and glades,
Where daisies crowd or people throng,
Keep watch and ward the whole day long.