Poems, 1908-1919. Drinkwater John

days are undefiled, —

      For tutored pride and innocence are one.

      To the gloom has won

      A gleam of the sun

      And into the barren desolate ways

      A scent is blown

      As of meadows mown

      By cooling rivers in clover days.

V

      I turned me from that place in humble wise,

      And fingers soft were laid upon mine eyes,

      And I beheld the fruitful earth, with store

      Of odorous treasure, full and golden grain,

      Ripe orchard bounty, slender stalks that bore

      Their flowered beauty with a meek content,

      The prosperous leaves that loved the sun and rain,

      Shy creatures unreproved that came and went

      In garrulous joy among the fostering green.

      And, over all, the changes of the day

      And ordered year their mutable glory laid —

      Expectant winter soberly arrayed,

      The prudent diligent spring whose eyes have seen

      The beauty of the roses uncreate,

      Imperial June, magnificent, elate

      Beholding all the ripening loves that stray

      Among her blossoms, and the golden time

      Of the full ear and bounty of the boughs, —

      And the great hills and solemn chanting seas

      And prodigal meadows, answering to the chime

      Of God’s good year, and bearing on their brows

      The glory of processional mysteries

      From dawn to dawn, the woven leaves and light

      Of the high noon, the twilight secrecies,

      And the inscrutable wonder of the stars

      Flung out along the reaches of the night.