| |
| THOU art the joy of age: | |
| Thy sun is dear when long the shadow falls. | |
| Forth to its friendliness the old man crawls, | |
| And, like the bird hung in his poor cage | |
| To gather song from radiance, in his chair | 5 |
| Sits by the door; and sitteth there | |
| His soul within him, like a child that lies | |
| Half dreaming, with half-open eyes, | |
| At close of a long afternoon in summer— | |
| High ruins around him, ancient ruins, where | 10 |
| The raven is almost the only comer; | |
| Half dreams, half broods, in wonderment | |
| At thy celestial descent, | |
| Through rifted loops alighting on the gold | |
| That waves its bloom in many an airy rent: | 15 |
| So dreams the old man’s soul, that is not old, | |
| But sleepy ’mid the ruins that enfold. | |
| |
| What soul-like changes, evanescent moods, | |
| Upon the face of the still passive earth, | |
| Its hills, and fields, and woods, | 20 |
| Thou with thy seasons and thy hours art ever calling forth! | |
| Even like a lord of music bent | |
| Over his instrument, | |
| Who gives to tears and smiles an equal birth! | |
| When clear as holiness the morning ray | 25 |
| Casts the rock’s dewy darkness at its feet, | |
| Mottling with shadows all the mountain gray; | |
| When, at the hour of sovereign noon, | |
| Infinite silent cataracts sheet | |
| Shadowless through the air of thunder-breeding June; | 30 |
| And when a yellower glory slanting passes | |
| ’Twixt longer shadows o’er the meadow grasses; | |
| When now the moon lifts up her shining shield, | |
| High on the peak of a cloud-hill revealed; | |
| Now crescent, low, wandering sun-dazed away, | 35 |
| Unconscious of her own star-mingled ray, | |
| Her still face seeming more to think than see, | |
| Makes the pale world lie dreaming dreams of thee! | |
| No mood of mind, no melody of soul, | |
| But lies within thy silent soft control. | 40 |
| |
| Of operative single power, | |
| And simple unity the one emblem, | |
| Yet all the colors that our passionate eyes devour, | |
| In rainbow, moonbow, or in opal gem, | |
| Are the melodious descant of divided thee. | 45 |
| Lo thee in yellow sands! lo thee | |
| In the blue air and sea! | |
| In the green corn, with scarlet poppies lit, | |
| Thy half souls parted, patient thou dost sit. | |
| Lo thee in speechless glories of the west! | 50 |
| Lo thee in dewdrop’s tiny breast! | |
| Thee on the vast white cloud that floats away, | |
| Bearing upon its skirt a brown moon-ray! | |
| Regent of color, thou dost fling | |
| Thy overflowing skill on everything! | 55 |
| The thousand hues and shades upon the flowers | |
| Are all the pastime of thy leisure hours; | |
| And all the jewelled ores in mines that hidden be | |
| Are dead till touched by thee. | |
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