Summer Noon

EARTH spirit, thou dost love a windless sky,
And the deep silence of the heated noon,
When little breezes scarce go wandering by,
And summer’s spell has charmed the robin’s tune.

Great potency of nature now has thrilled
Into the fibres of thy languid frame;
Mandragora and poppy, twice distilled,
Rise like a vapor to thy drowsy brain.

When tired mowers seek a friendly shade
Oft to the tumbled meadows thou dost hie;
On clover pillows leans thy heavy head,
And perfumes steal from where the windrows lie.

A burning haze has veiled the grassy land;
The sun’s remorseless tides are pouring down;
A naked blade whirled in a mighty hand
Flashes the jewels of thy queenly crown.

The laden bee drones in thy heedless ear;
The cicada sings, loving well the heat;
The priestly cricket, though none heed or hear,
His benedictus chants amid the wheat.

No leaflet trembles on the tangled hedge,
The fern droops hidden in its mossy nook;
A dragon’s breath has scorched the plumy sedge,
And e’en the wild rose faints beside the brook.

Now shadows gather on broad-breasted hills,
Where the dim pines and feathered larches lean;
And dewy evening freshness soft distills
From hidden depths, and from the noiseless stream.

Arise, earth spirit, and shake off thy swoon,
Drunk with the sunshine as with fervid wine;
Arise, and free thee from the heated noon,
And in thy locks bind rose and eglantine!

See where she moves across the meadow plain,
With waving robe that freshens all the flowers!
A sense of dew, a breath of tender rain,
Brings thoughts of sea-wind and of dropping showers.

About her steps the little breezes curl,
And fledgelings try their new, untutored wings;
In airy dance the swallows skim and whirl,
And the shy evening songster sweetly sings.