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<h2>In the Wood</h2> <div class="poetry"> <div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> TO me, there comes a time in leafy June When nature calls from wood, and stream, and field, Calls low at dawn, calls loud and clear at noon, Calls most persuasively when stars come out Up in the blue, and other voices hush, And Come! I hear her say, come out with me, Come leave the low cramped rooms, the weary task, Come take the path through meadow, and through wood, Climb up the breezy hills and look abroad, Climb down into the valleys deep and wide And rest a space! There is no rest so full As that which I will give you as you lie On grassy knoll; I’ll give for lullaby The rustle of the leaves tossed by the wind, For covering the sunbeams meshed and snared By waving boughs; I’ll fill your lungs with air Made fragrant in the bowers I call my own. Come! Come! I’ll keep you company, I have A potion brewed, a wondrous healing thing,{88} Which brings forgetfulness of lurking care, And rubs out from the mind the memory Of loss, of striving and defeat—Come! Come! </div> <div class="stanza"> I went, I left the city far behind, I went because she called—my fair first love! I went at sunrise that for one full day I might be with her, thrill beneath her touch As in the long ago when she did claim The full affection of my untried youth. </div> <div class="stanza"> O freshness, living freshness of a day In June! Spring scarce has gotten out of sight And not a stain of wear shows on the grass Beneath our feet, and not a dead leaf calls, “Our day of loveliness is past and gone!” I found the thick wood steeped in pleasant smells, The dainty ferns hid in their sheltered nooks, The wild flowers found the sunlight where they stood, And some hid their white faces quite away, While others lifted up their starry eyes And seemed right glad to ruffle in the breeze, I revelled in the grandeur and the strength Of towering trunks, and great wide-spreading limbs, I revelled in the silence—far away{89} A noisy world I knew was waiting me, But no sound from it reached me as I went By tangled pathway through that wilderness. </div> <div class="stanza"> At noon I came out to the fields, sat down And ate my lunch with hearty appetite, Just at the foot of a wide hill which hid The highway quite from sight, and shut me in. </div> <div class="stanza"> A meadow stretched itself out in the sun, Each little blade of green did thrust its face Up to the glow. The clover heads bent down To let their visitors—the bees—pass out, The heavy-footed honey bees. Ah, fond Are they of the sweet juices stored in fragrant phials! So fond, that in the breeze they smell them out And straightway sally forth to taste the same, And carry samples home. Down in the grass A thousand insects hummed; a shallow stream Laughed in the sunshine, speeding o’er the stones To find the coolness of the shady wood. The cattle laid their wide mouths to its breast And slaked their thirst, and made their dappled sides Swell out; then lowing forth their full content They turned again to wade through knee-deep grass.{90} From off her four warm eggs of mottled shade, A bird flew, with a call of love and joy, That drew from her proved mate, perched on a bough Too slight to hold him and his weight of song, An answering note, replete with tenderness, That sent the echo of its sweetness on Into the dim old wood. A wild-rose spread Its greenness o’er a corner of the fence, And hung its tinted blossoms out to grace The lowly spot, and make of it a bower. </div> <div class="stanza"> But fairer than the meadow or the wood— Than wild-rose blooming by the zig-zag fence— Than nesting bird, or softly murmuring stream— Than cattle standing knee-deep in the grass— Than dew-washed fern, or golden-hearted flowers— Fairer than sunbeam’s mesh or dappled shade— Or aught that I had seen this day of days Was she, the glad young thing whose buoyant feet Trod the slim path which wound its changeful way Down the tall hill, past alders all abloom. </div> <div class="stanza"> A girl, a young girl, is a gracious sight, A thing to make the eye light gaily up,{91} We see our youth in her—the joy of youth Smiles out at us from her white-lidded eyes, The careless grace of youth is on her lips, The innocence of youth shines on her brow, The prettiness of youth is on her cheek, Her softness is the softness of a flower, Her brightness and her beauty have the fresh And healthy glow of morn. Her laughter stirs A host of memories sleeping in our heart, And makes a present hour of some far-off, Some dear and half-forgotten yesterday. </div> <div class="stanza"> I wonder if the day will ever come When we will be so old—so old and dull That we will listen to, yet never heed The sweetest sound of all the sounds which ring Out through this world’s big aisles—the rippling laugh Which comes from red young lips—comes straight from some Rich storehouse in the breast, a storehouse filled With gladness great, and hope, and all things good? </div> <div class="stanza"> She stopped to pluck a bouquet for her gown From the sweetbriar that nodded in the sun, And presently I heard a little “Oh!” Of pain. That hand of hers the briar in greed{92} Had caught, and held so closely that its mark Showed plainly on the warm and pink-palmed thing. But she did pluck it, and its fragrance found A place among the white folds at her neck, And in the silken girdle which did creep About the rounded slimness of her waist. </div> <div class="stanza"> Then down she sat to rest her for awhile, And I could hear her crooning to herself: </div> <div class="stanza"> “O Sweetbriar, growing all alone In shady, lonesome places, By all but sun and dew unknown, How full you are of graces! </div> <div class="stanza"> O Sweetbriar, with your fragrance rare You woo me to come nigh you, Your breath so fills the heavy air I cannot well pass by you! </div> <div class="stanza"> O Sweetbriar, growing by the brook The sleek, fat cattle wade in, Say, will you share your cozy nook With me—a happy maiden? </div> <div class="stanza"> O Sweetbriar, do the dew-drops fall And make your soft leaves glisten? O Sweetbriar, does the west wind call, And do you wait and listen?”{93} </div> </div></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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