A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze, With labored respiration, moves the wheat From distant reaches, till the golden seas Break in crisp whispers at my feet. My book, neglected of an idle mind, Hides for a moment from the eyes of men; Or lightly opened by a critic wind, Affrightedly reviews itself again. Off through the haze that dances in the shine The warm sun showers in the open glade, The forest lies, a silhouette design Dimmed through and through with shade. A dreamy day; and tranquilly I lie At anchor from all storms of mental strain; With absent vision, gazing at the sky, "Like one that hears it rain." The Katydid, so boisterous last night, Clinging, inverted, in uneasy poise, Beneath a wheat-blade, has forgotten quite If "Katy @3did@1 or @3didn't@1" make a noise. The twitter, sometimes, of a wayward bird That checks the song abruptly at the sound, And mildly, chiding echoes that have stirred, Sink into silence, all the more profound. And drowsily I hear the plaintive strain Of some poor dove . . . Why, I can scarcely keep My heavy eyelids -- there it is again -- "Coo-coo!" -- I mustn't -- "Coo-coo!" -- fall asleep! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE PURPLE COW by FRANK GELETT BURGESS LAST WORDS TO A DUMB FRIEND by THOMAS HARDY THE GREEK AT CONSTANTINOPLE by RICHARD MONCKTON MILNES TO THE LARK by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD TO A BIRD IN THE CITY by MATTHIAS BARR TO CHARLEY by GEORGE FREDERICK CAMERON MY VALENTINE by ERNEST CAMP JR. TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 2. SUNDAY MORNING AFTER CHURCH by EDWARD CARPENTER |