Blooms of the Berry Part 6

With frowsy snow blanched is the world; Stiff sweeps the wind thro' murmuring pines, Then fiend-like deep-entangled whines Thro' the dead oak, that vagrant twirled

Phantoms the cliff o'er the wild wold: Ghost-vested willows rim the stream, Low hang lank limbs where in a dream The houseless hare leaps o'er the cold

On snow-tressed crags that twinkling flash, Like champions mailed for clanking war, Glares down large Phosphor's quiv'ring star, Where teeth of foam the fierce seas gnash.

Slim o'er the tree-tops weighed with white The country church's spire doth swell, A scintillating icicle, While fitfully the village light

In sallow stars stabs the gray dark; Homeward the creaking wagons strain Thro' knee-deep drifts; the steeple's vane A flitting ghost whirls in its sark.

Down from the flaky North with clash, Swathed in his beard of flashing sleet, With steeds of winds that jangling beat Life from the world, and roaring dash,--

Loud Winter! ruddy as a rose Blown by the June's mild, musky lips; The high moon dims her horn that dips, And fold on fold roll down the snows.

SUMMER.

I.

Now Lucifer ignites her taper bright To greet the wild-flowered Dawn, Who leads the ta.s.seled Summer draped with light Down heaven's gilded lawn.

Hark to the minstrels of the woods, Tuning glad harps in haunted solitudes!

List to the rillet's music soft, The tree's hushed song: Flushed from her star aloft Comes blue-eyed Summer stepping meek along.

II.

And as the l.u.s.ty lover leads her in, Clad in soft blushes red, With breezy lips her love he tries to win, Doth many a tear-drop shed: While airy sighs, dyed in his heart, Like Cupid's arrows, flame-tipped o'er her dart, He bends his yellow head and craves The timid maid For one sweet kiss, and laves Her rose-crowned locks with tears until 'tis paid.

III.

Come to the forest or the musky meadows Brown with their mellow grain; Come where the cascades shake green shadows, Where tawny orchards reign.

Come where fall reapers ply the scythe, Where golden sheaves are heaped by damsels blithe: Come to the rock-rough mountain old, Tree-pierced and wild; Where freckled flowers paint the wold, Hail laughing Summer, sunny-haired, blonde child!

IV.

Come where the dragon-flies in coats of blue Flit o'er the wildwood streams, And fright the wild bee from the honey-dew Where if long-sipping dreams.

Come where the touch-me-nots shy peep Gold-horned and speckled from the cascades steep: Come where the daisies by the rustic bridge Display their eyes, Or where the lilied sedge From emerald forest-pools, lance-like, thick rise.

V.

Come where the wild deer feed within the brake As red as oak and strong; Come where romantic echoes wildly wake Old hills to mystic song.

Come to the vine-hung woodlands h.o.a.ry, Come to the realms of hunting song and story; But come when Summer decks the land With garb of gold, With colors myriad as the sand-- A birth-fair child, tho' thousand summers old.

VI.

Come where the trees extend their shining arms Unto the star-sown skies; Displaying wrinkled age in limb-gnarled charms When Night, moon-eyed, brown lies Upon their bending lances seen With fluttered pennons in the moon's broad sheen.

Come where the pearly dew is spread Upon the rose; Come where the fire-flies wed The drowsy Night flame-stained with sudden glows.

VII.

Come to the vine-dark dingle's whispering glens White with their blossoms pale; Come to the willowed weed-haired lakes and fens; Come to the tedded vale.

Come all, and greet the brown-browed child With lips of honey red as a poppy wild, Clothed in her vernal robes of old, Her hair with wheat All tawny as with gold; Hail Summer with her sandaled grain-bound feet!

NIGHT.

Lo! where the car of Day down slopes of flame On burnished axle quits the drowsy skies!

And as his snorting steeds of glowing bra.s.s Rush 'neath the earth, a glimmering dust of gold From their fierce hoofs o'er heaven's azure meads Rolls to yon star that burns beneath the moon.

With solemn tread and holy-stoled, star-bound, The Night steps in, sad votaress, like a nun, To pace lone corridors of th' ebon-arched sky.

How sad! how beautiful! her raven locks Pale-filleted with stars that dance their sheen On her deep, holy eyes, and woo to sleep, Sleep or the easeful slumber of white Death!

How calm o'er this great water, in its flow Silent and vast, smoothes yon cold sister sphere, Her lucid chasteness feathering the wax-white foam!

As o'er a troubled brow falls calm content: As clear-eyed chast.i.ty in this bleak world Tinges and softens all the darker dross.

See, where the roses blow at the wood's edge In many a languid bloom, bowed to the moon And the dim river's lisp; sleep droops their lids With damask lashes trimmed and fragile rayed, Which the mad, frolic bee--rough paramour-- So often kissed beneath th' enlivening sun.

How cool the breezes touch the tired head With unseen fingers long and soft! and there From its white couch of thorn-tree blossoms sweet, Pillowed with one milk cl.u.s.ter, floating, swooning, Drops the low nocturne of a dreaming bird, _Ave Maria_, nun-like, slumb'ring sung.

See, there the violet mound in many an eye, A deep-blue eye, meek, delicate, and sad, As Sorrow's own sad eyes, great with far dreams, When haltingly she bends o'er Lethe's waves Falt'ring to drink, and falt'ring still remains, The Night with feet of moon-tinged mist swept o'er Them now, but as she pa.s.sed she bent and kissed Each modest orb that selfless hung as tho'

Thought-freighted low; then groped her train of jet Which billowing by did merely waft the sound Of a brief gust to each wild violet, To kiss each eye and laugh; then shed a tear Upon each downward face which nestled there.

She weeping from her silent vigil turns, As some pale mother from her cradled child, Frail, sick, and wan, with kisses warm and songs Wooed to a peaceful ease and tranquil rest, When the rathe c.o.c.k crows to the graying East.

DAWN.

I.

Mist on the mountain height Silvery creeping; Incarnate beads of light Bloom-cradled sleeping, Dripped from the brow of Night.

II.

Shadows, and winds that rise Over the mountain; Stars in the spar that lies Cold in the fountain, Pale as the quickened skies.

III.