Poetry Explorer


Classic and Contemporary Poetry


OUR AFTERNOONS by AUGUSTA DAVIES WEBSTER

First Line: THE LIGHT BREEZE MAKES THE WAVELETS DANCE
Last Line: MOURN FOR THE DYING DAY.

THE light breeze makes the wavelets dance
And ripple round our boat,
Bright sunbeams through green branches glance,
And on the wavelets float.

We read with deep soul-stirring thrill
Words of the long-past dead--
We cease, the song seems echoed still
By the trees above our head.

They tell us of those old old times
When the far dead were young,
They murmur low the old old rhymes
Voices long hushed have sung.

They tell how men of ages gone
Beneath their shade would lie,
Of fairy music's silver tone
Ringing sweet melody;

Then there was haunt of elf and fay
By moonlight dancing by--
Pleasantly pass the hours away
Listening dreamily,

Or gazing at the clouds that sail
Through the blue summer sky,
Bidding them shadow out some tale,
Some fancied history.

So pleasantly the summer hours
Pass all too soon away,
Till, weeping dewy tears, the flowers
Mourn for the dying day.





Home: PoetryExplorer.net