BINDWEED
Alongthe lane I idly passUnheeding where the footpath goes,And loiter through the ripe wild-grassThat down the open roadway growsIn feathery, tall tufts that riseIn filmy tangles, misty-wise;The grass that when the south wind blows,Shines out and showsShot through with silver lights and rose,And tiny gold and violet seedsThat quiver off each gleaming stemAnd powder all the wayside weeds,And like a glory cover them.With eager palms I gently pressSoft sheaves of it against my lipsIn sheer delight; and so caressAnd fondle with light finger-tips,And watch its beauty when the bright,Clear spears of lightPierce through its slender leaves and smiteTheir rose and purple, till my sightIs dazzled with its loveliness!In verdant nets along the wayThe tendrils of a wild-grape vineThrough elder thickets intertwine;And poising lightly on a sprayOf fruited bramble stems where shineClose clustering berries, red as wine,A little thistle-bird, still gayIn April’s yellow plumage, clingsWith airy grace, and slowly swings,And lifts his wingsIn dainty, drowsy flutterings;They flicker like bright flakes of gold,And fan his body, small and slim,While lovingly the winds enfoldAnd summer’s heart broods over him.The sky is softer than the blueOf cornflower buds beneath the dew;And down belowUpon the marshy meadow swalesThe bindweed weaves its rosy veilsWhere thick the blowing rushes growAmong the tasseled reeds and rue;And up between the mossy railsIt lightly climbs, and clambers throughThe growing corn, and barley, too,And winds the fallow weeds and trailsAlong the creek where cowslips grew.O lavish stems, that fondly flingClose clasp about the earth, and clingIn wreaths of fragrant flowering,Ev’n as ye doTo that dear soil wherefrom ye spring,So does my love cleave thereunto!And so my full heart-blossoms bindThe bright midsummer fields, and findSweet fellowships with everything!
Alongthe lane I idly passUnheeding where the footpath goes,And loiter through the ripe wild-grassThat down the open roadway growsIn feathery, tall tufts that riseIn filmy tangles, misty-wise;The grass that when the south wind blows,Shines out and showsShot through with silver lights and rose,And tiny gold and violet seedsThat quiver off each gleaming stemAnd powder all the wayside weeds,And like a glory cover them.With eager palms I gently pressSoft sheaves of it against my lipsIn sheer delight; and so caressAnd fondle with light finger-tips,And watch its beauty when the bright,Clear spears of lightPierce through its slender leaves and smiteTheir rose and purple, till my sightIs dazzled with its loveliness!In verdant nets along the wayThe tendrils of a wild-grape vineThrough elder thickets intertwine;And poising lightly on a sprayOf fruited bramble stems where shineClose clustering berries, red as wine,A little thistle-bird, still gayIn April’s yellow plumage, clingsWith airy grace, and slowly swings,And lifts his wingsIn dainty, drowsy flutterings;They flicker like bright flakes of gold,And fan his body, small and slim,While lovingly the winds enfoldAnd summer’s heart broods over him.The sky is softer than the blueOf cornflower buds beneath the dew;And down belowUpon the marshy meadow swalesThe bindweed weaves its rosy veilsWhere thick the blowing rushes growAmong the tasseled reeds and rue;And up between the mossy railsIt lightly climbs, and clambers throughThe growing corn, and barley, too,And winds the fallow weeds and trailsAlong the creek where cowslips grew.O lavish stems, that fondly flingClose clasp about the earth, and clingIn wreaths of fragrant flowering,Ev’n as ye doTo that dear soil wherefrom ye spring,So does my love cleave thereunto!And so my full heart-blossoms bindThe bright midsummer fields, and findSweet fellowships with everything!
Alongthe lane I idly passUnheeding where the footpath goes,And loiter through the ripe wild-grassThat down the open roadway growsIn feathery, tall tufts that riseIn filmy tangles, misty-wise;The grass that when the south wind blows,Shines out and showsShot through with silver lights and rose,And tiny gold and violet seedsThat quiver off each gleaming stemAnd powder all the wayside weeds,And like a glory cover them.
Alongthe lane I idly pass
Unheeding where the footpath goes,
And loiter through the ripe wild-grass
That down the open roadway grows
In feathery, tall tufts that rise
In filmy tangles, misty-wise;
The grass that when the south wind blows,
Shines out and shows
Shot through with silver lights and rose,
And tiny gold and violet seeds
That quiver off each gleaming stem
And powder all the wayside weeds,
And like a glory cover them.
With eager palms I gently pressSoft sheaves of it against my lipsIn sheer delight; and so caressAnd fondle with light finger-tips,And watch its beauty when the bright,Clear spears of lightPierce through its slender leaves and smiteTheir rose and purple, till my sightIs dazzled with its loveliness!
With eager palms I gently press
Soft sheaves of it against my lips
In sheer delight; and so caress
And fondle with light finger-tips,
And watch its beauty when the bright,
Clear spears of light
Pierce through its slender leaves and smite
Their rose and purple, till my sight
Is dazzled with its loveliness!
In verdant nets along the wayThe tendrils of a wild-grape vineThrough elder thickets intertwine;And poising lightly on a sprayOf fruited bramble stems where shineClose clustering berries, red as wine,A little thistle-bird, still gayIn April’s yellow plumage, clingsWith airy grace, and slowly swings,And lifts his wingsIn dainty, drowsy flutterings;They flicker like bright flakes of gold,And fan his body, small and slim,While lovingly the winds enfoldAnd summer’s heart broods over him.
In verdant nets along the way
The tendrils of a wild-grape vine
Through elder thickets intertwine;
And poising lightly on a spray
Of fruited bramble stems where shine
Close clustering berries, red as wine,
A little thistle-bird, still gay
In April’s yellow plumage, clings
With airy grace, and slowly swings,
And lifts his wings
In dainty, drowsy flutterings;
They flicker like bright flakes of gold,
And fan his body, small and slim,
While lovingly the winds enfold
And summer’s heart broods over him.
The sky is softer than the blueOf cornflower buds beneath the dew;And down belowUpon the marshy meadow swalesThe bindweed weaves its rosy veilsWhere thick the blowing rushes growAmong the tasseled reeds and rue;And up between the mossy railsIt lightly climbs, and clambers throughThe growing corn, and barley, too,And winds the fallow weeds and trailsAlong the creek where cowslips grew.
The sky is softer than the blue
Of cornflower buds beneath the dew;
And down below
Upon the marshy meadow swales
The bindweed weaves its rosy veils
Where thick the blowing rushes grow
Among the tasseled reeds and rue;
And up between the mossy rails
It lightly climbs, and clambers through
The growing corn, and barley, too,
And winds the fallow weeds and trails
Along the creek where cowslips grew.
O lavish stems, that fondly flingClose clasp about the earth, and clingIn wreaths of fragrant flowering,Ev’n as ye doTo that dear soil wherefrom ye spring,So does my love cleave thereunto!And so my full heart-blossoms bindThe bright midsummer fields, and findSweet fellowships with everything!
O lavish stems, that fondly fling
Close clasp about the earth, and cling
In wreaths of fragrant flowering,
Ev’n as ye do
To that dear soil wherefrom ye spring,
So does my love cleave thereunto!
And so my full heart-blossoms bind
The bright midsummer fields, and find
Sweet fellowships with everything!