I LIE in the summer meadows, In the meadows all alone, With the infinite sky above me, And the sun on his midday throne. The smell of the flowering grasses Is sweeter than any rose, And a million happy insects Sing in the warm repose. The mother lark that is brooding Feels the sun on her wings, And the deeps of the noonday glitter With swarms of fairy things. From the billowy green beneath me To the fathomless blue above, The creatures of God are happy In the warmth of their summer love. The infinite bliss of Nature I feel in every vein; The light and the life of Summer Blossom in heart and brain. But darker than any shadow By thunder-clouds unfurled, The awful truth arises, That Death is in the world! And the sky may beam as ever, And never a cloud be curled; And the airs be living odors, But Death is in the world! Out of the deeps of sunshine The invisible bolt is hurled: There's life in the summer meadows, But Death is in the world! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SATIRES OF CIRCUMSTANCE: 9. AT THE ALTAR-RAIL by THOMAS HARDY SHILOH; A REQUIEM by HERMAN MELVILLE |