Classic Poem

May still the summer morning break
With cloudless light for Woodcombe wake,
That in our early summers brought
Sweet haps and deeds for backward-thought;
When Woodcombe bells so blithely rung
O'er gay-fac'd clusters of the young,
And blooming cheeks and glossy brows
Were cool'd in shades of quiv'ring boughs,
And welcome rest, to weary men,
Came round again, round again.

There gay-tun'd music sweetly wound
Through touching turns of mellow sound,
And swelled on summer air that shook
The leaves and ruffled up the brook;
And in the throng the many-smil'd
Young lips, with winning words, beguiled
Young hearts rejoicing to disown
All fear and grief as yet unknown,
While Woodcombe's old and young were then
All met again, met again.

There sturdy swains, on shining grass,
Lean'd each beside his blooming lass,
As blooming maids, with downcast glance,
Sat resting from the merry dance,
With bendings loveliest to see
Of bowing neck and folded knee;
The winning postures that untaught
But comely coyness takes unsought,
And took in her whose like, since then,
Ne'er shone again, shone again.

So let the morning's dew o'erspread
The grass, and noon have dust to tread,
With ev'ry bough's own shadow seen
In soundless motion on the green,
To gather tongues that time may spare
To form sweet words of summer air,
The wife and husband glad to pass
Their merry wake with lad and lass;
It may be not to see it when
It comes again, comes again.

For why should fear of woes to come
Make merry-worded voices dumb,
Since He who made the poplar slight
To cut the storm-wind in its flight,
And formed the long-stemm'd clote to keep
Above the stream that rains make deep,
Will never leave us to despair
In trials that we cannot bear:
But sends correcting griefs, and then
New joys again, joys again.

And so may power never lay
His ban upon the happy day,
For only evil minds could make
Aught evil out of Woodcombe wake,
When labor once a year sets free
Her patient sons for social glee;
And heart-entrancing joys that bind,
In growing kindness, mind with mind;
And welcome rest to weary men
Comes round again, round again.