II.

Low rippling at my feet a loitering stream Slipt, murmuring music to each listening stone, Or flung its silver laughter where soft shone The slant sunbeam breaking the shadows’ dream; Betwixt the robins’ song the swift blue-bird Flashed like a heavenly message through the shade Where with the sunshine gentlest breezes played, And quiet shadows to soft motion stirred. Between me and the meadow’s smitten flow’rs The fresh June roses wreathed the rude fence bars, Frail elder trailed its galaxy of stars, While butterflies sped by in golden show’rs— Far, far beyond, the earth-haze shining through, Rose the great mountains’ dim and misty blue.