<SPAN name="XVIII"></SPAN>XVIII<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
Mid-summer blooms within our quiet garden-ways;<br/>
A golden peacock down the dusky alley strays;<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gay flower petals strew</span><br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">—Pearl, emerald and blue—</span><br/>
The curving slopes of fragrant summer grass;<br/>
<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The pools are clear as glass</span><br/>
Between the white cups of the lily-flowers;<br/>
The currants are like jewelled fairy-bowers;<br/>
A dazzling insect worries the heart of a rose,<br/>
Where a delicate fern a filmy shadow throws,<br/>
And airy as bubbles the thousands of bees<br/>
Over the young grape-clusters swarm as they please.<br/>
<br/>
The air is pearly, iridescent, pure;<br/>
These profound and radiant noons mature,<br/>
Unfolding even as odorous roses of clear light;<br/>
Familiar roads to distances invite<br/>
Like slow and graceful gestures, one by one<br/>
Bound for the pearly-hued horizon and the sun.<br/>
<br/>
Surely the summer clothes, with all her arts,<br/>
No other garden with such grace and power;<br/>
And 'tis the poignant joy close-folded in our hearts<br/>
That cries its life aloud from every flaming flower.<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<br/>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />
1 of 2
2 of 2
Previous
Next
Update Required
To play the media you will need to either update your browser to a recent version or update your Flash plugin.