Shapes and Shadows. Cawein Madison Julius
Чтение книги онлайн.

Читать онлайн книгу Shapes and Shadows - Cawein Madison Julius страница 3

Название: Shapes and Shadows

Автор: Cawein Madison Julius

Издательство: Public Domain

Жанр: Поэзия

Серия:

isbn:

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ a silvery snare.

      The poison-oak's rank tendrils twine

      The rock's south side; the trumpet-vine,

      With crimson bugles sprinkled,

      Makes green its eastern side; the west

      Is rough with lichens; and, gray-pressed

      Into an angle wrinkled,

      The hornets hang an oblong nest.

      The north is hid from sun and star,

      And here, – like an Inquisitor

      Of Faëry Inquisition,

      That roots out Elf-land heresy, —

      Deep in the rock, with mystery

      Cowled for his grave commission,

      The Owl sits magisterially.

      Rain

      Around, the stillness deepened; then the grain

      Went wild with wind; and every briery lane

      Was swept with dust; and then, tempestuous black,

      Hillward the tempest heaved a monster back,

      That on the thunder leaned as on a cane;

      And on huge shoulders bore a cloudy pack,

      That gullied gold from many a lightning-crack:

      One great drop splashed and wrinkled down the pane,

      And then field, hill, and wood were lost in rain.

      At last, through clouds, – as from a cavern hewn

      Into night's heart, – the sun burst, angry roon;

      And every cedar, with its weight of wet,

      Against the sunset's fiery splendour set,

      Frightened to beauty, seemed with rubies strewn;

      Then in drenched gardens, like sweet phantoms met,

      Dim odours rose of pink and mignonette;

      And in the East a confidence, that soon

      Grew to the calm assurance of the Moon.

      Standing-Stone Creek

      A weed-grown slope, whereon the rain

      Has washed the brown rocks bare,

      Leads tangled from a lonely lane

      Down to a creek's broad stair

      Of stone, that, through the solitude,

      Winds onward to a quiet wood.

      An intermittent roof of shade

      The beech above it throws;

      Along its steps a balustrade

      Of beauty builds the rose;

      In which, a stately lamp of green

      At intervals the cedar's seen.

      The water, carpeting each ledge

      Of rock that runs across,

      Glints 'twixt a flow'r-embroidered edge

      Of ferns and grass and moss;

      And in its deeps the wood and sky

      Seem patterns of the softest dye.

      Long corridors of pleasant dusk

      Within the house of leaves

      It reaches; where, on looms of musk,

      The ceaseless locust weaves

      A web of summer; and perfume

      Trails a sweet gown from room to room.

      Green windows of the boughs, that swing,

      It passes, where the notes

      Of birds are glad thoughts entering,

      And butterflies are motes;

      And now a vista where the day

      Opens a door of wind and ray.

      It is a stairway for all sounds

      That haunt the woodland sides;

      On which, boy-like, the southwind bounds,

      Girl-like, the sunbeam glides;

      And, like fond parents, following these,

      The oldtime dreams of rest and peace.

      The Moonmen

      I stood in the forest on Huron Hill

      When the night was old and the world was still.

      The Wind was a wizard who muttering strode

      In a raven cloak on a haunted road.

      The Sound of Water, a witch who crooned

      Her spells to the rocks the rain had runed.

      And the Gleam of the Dew on the fern's green tip

      Was a sylvan passing with robe a-drip.

      The Light of the Stars was a glimmering maid

      Who stole, an elfin, from glade to glade.

      The Scent of the Woods in the delicate air,

      A wildflower shape with chilly hair.

      And Silence, a spirit who sat alone

      With a lifted finger and eyes of stone.

      And it seemed to me these six were met

      To greet a greater who came not yet.

      And the speech they spoke, that I listened to,

      Was the archetype of the speech I knew.

      For the Wind clasped hands with the Water's rush,

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4AAQSkZJRgABAQEASABIAAD/2wBDAAMCAgMCAgMDAwMEAwMEBQgFBQQEBQoHBwYIDAoMDAsKCwsNDhIQDQ4RDgsLEBYQERMUFRUVDA8XGBYUGBIUFRT/2wBDAQMEBAUEBQkFBQkUDQsNFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBQUFBT/wAARCAMeAjoDAREAAhEBAxEB/8QAHQAAAwEAAgMBAAAAAAAAAAAAAAECA
СКАЧАТЬ