4THE GARDEN IN SEPTEMBER

4THE GARDEN IN SEPTEMBERNow thin mists temper the slow-ripening beamsOf the September sun: his golden gleamsOn gaudy flowers shine, that prank the rowsOf high-grown hollyhocks, and all tall showsThat Autumn flaunteth in his bushy bowers;Where tomtits, hanging from the drooping headsOf giant sunflowers, peck the nutty seeds;And in the feathery aster bees on wingSeize and set free the honied flowers,Till thousand stars leap with their visiting:While ever across the path mazily flit,Unpiloted in the sun,The dreamy butterfliesWith dazzling colours powdered and soft glooms,White, black and crimson stripes, and peacock eyes,Or on chance flowers sit,With idle effort plundering one by oneThe nectaries of deepest-throated blooms.With gentle flaws the western breezeInto the garden saileth,Scarce here and there stirring the single trees,For his sharpness he vaileth:So long a comrade of the bearded corn,Now from the stubbles whence the shocks are borne,O’er dewy lawns he turns to stray,As mindful of the kisses and soft playWherewith he enamoured the light-hearted May,Ere he deserted her;Lover of fragrance, and too late repents;Nor more of heavy hyacinth now may drink,Nor spicy pink,Nor summer’s rose, nor garnered lavender,But the few lingering scentsOf streakèd pea, and gillyflower, and stocksOf courtly purple, and aromatic phlox.And at all times to hear are drowsy tonesOf dizzy flies, and humming drones,With sudden flap of pigeon wings in the sky,Or the wild cryOf thirsty rooks, that scour ascareThe distant blue, to watering as they fareWith creaking pinions, or—on business bent,If aught their ancient polity displease,—Come gathering to their colony, and thereSettling in ragged parliament,Some stormy council hold in the high trees.

Now thin mists temper the slow-ripening beamsOf the September sun: his golden gleamsOn gaudy flowers shine, that prank the rowsOf high-grown hollyhocks, and all tall showsThat Autumn flaunteth in his bushy bowers;Where tomtits, hanging from the drooping headsOf giant sunflowers, peck the nutty seeds;And in the feathery aster bees on wingSeize and set free the honied flowers,Till thousand stars leap with their visiting:While ever across the path mazily flit,Unpiloted in the sun,The dreamy butterfliesWith dazzling colours powdered and soft glooms,White, black and crimson stripes, and peacock eyes,Or on chance flowers sit,With idle effort plundering one by oneThe nectaries of deepest-throated blooms.With gentle flaws the western breezeInto the garden saileth,Scarce here and there stirring the single trees,For his sharpness he vaileth:So long a comrade of the bearded corn,Now from the stubbles whence the shocks are borne,O’er dewy lawns he turns to stray,As mindful of the kisses and soft playWherewith he enamoured the light-hearted May,Ere he deserted her;Lover of fragrance, and too late repents;Nor more of heavy hyacinth now may drink,Nor spicy pink,Nor summer’s rose, nor garnered lavender,But the few lingering scentsOf streakèd pea, and gillyflower, and stocksOf courtly purple, and aromatic phlox.And at all times to hear are drowsy tonesOf dizzy flies, and humming drones,With sudden flap of pigeon wings in the sky,Or the wild cryOf thirsty rooks, that scour ascareThe distant blue, to watering as they fareWith creaking pinions, or—on business bent,If aught their ancient polity displease,—Come gathering to their colony, and thereSettling in ragged parliament,Some stormy council hold in the high trees.

Now thin mists temper the slow-ripening beams

Of the September sun: his golden gleams

On gaudy flowers shine, that prank the rows

Of high-grown hollyhocks, and all tall shows

That Autumn flaunteth in his bushy bowers;

Where tomtits, hanging from the drooping heads

Of giant sunflowers, peck the nutty seeds;

And in the feathery aster bees on wing

Seize and set free the honied flowers,

Till thousand stars leap with their visiting:

While ever across the path mazily flit,

Unpiloted in the sun,

The dreamy butterflies

With dazzling colours powdered and soft glooms,

White, black and crimson stripes, and peacock eyes,

Or on chance flowers sit,

With idle effort plundering one by one

The nectaries of deepest-throated blooms.

With gentle flaws the western breezeInto the garden saileth,Scarce here and there stirring the single trees,For his sharpness he vaileth:So long a comrade of the bearded corn,Now from the stubbles whence the shocks are borne,O’er dewy lawns he turns to stray,As mindful of the kisses and soft playWherewith he enamoured the light-hearted May,Ere he deserted her;Lover of fragrance, and too late repents;Nor more of heavy hyacinth now may drink,Nor spicy pink,Nor summer’s rose, nor garnered lavender,But the few lingering scentsOf streakèd pea, and gillyflower, and stocksOf courtly purple, and aromatic phlox.

With gentle flaws the western breeze

Into the garden saileth,

Scarce here and there stirring the single trees,

For his sharpness he vaileth:

So long a comrade of the bearded corn,

Now from the stubbles whence the shocks are borne,

O’er dewy lawns he turns to stray,

As mindful of the kisses and soft play

Wherewith he enamoured the light-hearted May,

Ere he deserted her;

Lover of fragrance, and too late repents;

Nor more of heavy hyacinth now may drink,

Nor spicy pink,

Nor summer’s rose, nor garnered lavender,

But the few lingering scents

Of streakèd pea, and gillyflower, and stocks

Of courtly purple, and aromatic phlox.

And at all times to hear are drowsy tonesOf dizzy flies, and humming drones,With sudden flap of pigeon wings in the sky,Or the wild cryOf thirsty rooks, that scour ascareThe distant blue, to watering as they fareWith creaking pinions, or—on business bent,If aught their ancient polity displease,—Come gathering to their colony, and thereSettling in ragged parliament,Some stormy council hold in the high trees.

And at all times to hear are drowsy tones

Of dizzy flies, and humming drones,

With sudden flap of pigeon wings in the sky,

Or the wild cry

Of thirsty rooks, that scour ascare

The distant blue, to watering as they fare

With creaking pinions, or—on business bent,

If aught their ancient polity displease,—

Come gathering to their colony, and there

Settling in ragged parliament,

Some stormy council hold in the high trees.

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