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Voice on the Wind, and Other Poems

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<h2>IN THE LANE</h2> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> When the hornet hangs in the hollyhock, And the brown bee drones i' the rose, And the west is a red-streaked four-o'-clock, And summer is near its close— It's—Oh, for the gate and the locust lane And dusk and dew and home again! </div> <div class="stanza"> When the katydid sings and the cricket cries, And ghosts of the mists ascend, And the evening-star is a lamp i' the skies, And summer is near its end— It's—Oh, for the fence and the leafy lane, And the twilight peace and the tryst again! </div> <div class="stanza"> When the owlet hoots in the dogwood-tree, That leans to the rippling Run, And the wind is a wildwood melody, And summer is almost done— It's—Oh, for the bridge and the bramble lane, And the fragrant hush and her hands again! </div> <div class="stanza"> When fields smell moist with the dewy hay, And woods are cool and wan, And a path for dreams is the Milky-way, And summer is nearly gone— It's—Oh, for the rock and the woodland lane And the silence and stars and her lips again! </div> <div class="stanza"> [Pg 45] When the weight of the apples breaks down the boughs, And musk-melons split with sweet, And the moon is a-bloom in the Heaven's house, And summer has spent its heat— It's—Oh, for the lane, the trysting lane, And the deep-mooned night and her love again! </div> </div> <hr style="width: 65%;" /> [Pg 46] <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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