II.

Yellow as sunset skies and pale As fairy clouds that stay or sail Thro' azure vaults of summer, blue As summer heavens the violets grew; And mosses on which spurts of light Fell laughing, like the lips one might Feign for a Hebe or a girl Whose mouth heat-lightens up with pearl; Limp ferns in murmuring shadows shrunk And silent as if stunned or drunk With moist aromas of the wood; Dry rustlings of the quietude; On silver fronds' thin tresses new Cold limpid blisters of the dew. Across the rambling fence she leaned: A gingham gown to ankles bare; Her artless beauty, bonnet-screened, Tempestuous with its stormy hair. A rain-crow gurgled in a vine,-- She heard it not--a step she hears; The wild rose smelt like delicate wine,-- She knew it not--'tis he that nears. With smiles of greeting all her face Grew musical; with rustic grace He leant beside her, and they had Some parley, with light laughter glad; I know not what; I know but this, Its final period was a kiss.

SONG OF THE SPIRITS OF SPRING.