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THE MASQUERADE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Here winds / the chiding chiming brook caught in two minds
Last Line: With ringed lights dabbling and twirling the brambles and to yourself a-singing and a-talking.
Alternate Author Name(s): Blunden, Edmund
Subject(s): England; Landscape; Masquerades; English


HERE winds
The chiding chiming brook caught in two minds,
Here it breaks away from shadow and might
Break a heart some day recalling its delight.
Then, that child dance gone,
Our rivulet puts a river's mantle on,
Sweet mimic, swelling its blue breadth between
Mild open levels green.
Now, on its breast, how glides
The secret wind with forked wave,
And how the pike young, long and clean
Sleeps in his azure cave!
Warm-bosomed hawthorn stands in fruitful rest
Beside, and breathes her mayflowers' araby,
And there, even more enchanting me,
The millionth thrush has built her nest,
That safety and sweet beckoning breeze not fail,
When great life calls the young ones from their shells
To their round cot of clay: cool stream, avail!
And the good mother knows that one due day,
Destined with golden beams, life points their way,
Paints their long landscape, the large lordships tells,
Far from the river in their natal dale.

And so you are become a river,
With the iris fenced, the grove
Of serpent water-withes inwove!
Vain; say nay, you child deceiver;
Here the shepherd's penstock ends the scene,
At whose mossed doors your serious prank is done.
Each way the willows slyly laughing lean
To see your sleep-like walking
On a sudden change, leap, rove and run
In bright gold shallows, crystal one,
With ringed lights dabbling and twirling the brambles and to yourself a-singing and a-talking.





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