TO THE FRINGED GENTIAN. THOU blossom bright with autumn dew, Thou comest not when violets lean Thou waitest late, and com'st alone, Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye I would that thus, when I shall see "INNOCENT CHILD AND SNOW-WHITE FLOWER." INNOCENT child and snow-white flower! White as those leaves, just blown apart, Artless one! though thou gazest now, Fair as it is, thou wilt throw it by. Throw it aside in thy weary hour, Yet, as thy tender years depart, Keep that white and innocent heart. 18 SONNET-MIDSUMMER. A POWER is on the earth and in the air, From which the vital spirit shrinks afraid, And shelters him, in nooks of deepest shade, Are smitten, even the dark sun-loving maize The herd beside the shaded fountain pants; The bird has sought his tree, the snake his den, Drop by the sun-stroke in the populous town; SONNET-OCTOBER. Ay, thou art welcome, heaven's delicious breath! And suns grow meek, and the meek suns grow brief In the gay woods and in the golden air, Like to a good old age released from care, Journeying, in long serenity, away. In such a bright, late quiet, would that I Might wear out life like thee, 'mid bowers and brooks, And dearer yet, the sunshine of kind looks, And music of kind voices ever nigh; And when my last sand twinkled in the glass, Pass silently from men, as thou dost pass. SONNET-NOVEMBER. YET one smile more, departing, distant sun! One mellow smile through the soft vapoury Ere, o'er the frozen earth, the loud winds run, Or snows are sifted o'er the meadows bare. One smile on the brown hills and naked trees, air, And the dark rocks whose summer wreaths are cast, And the blue Gentian flower, that, in the breeze, Nods lonely, of her beauteous race the last. Yet a few sunny days, in which the bee Shall murmur by the hedge that skirts the way, The cricket chirp upon the russet lea, And man delight to linger in thy ray. Yet one rich smile, and we will try to bear The piercing winter frost, and winds, and darkened air. |