COUNTRY LARGESSE

I bring a message from the stream

To fan the burning cheeks of town,

From morning's tower

Of pearl and rose

I bring this cup of crystal down,

With brimming dews agleam,

And from my lady's garden close

I bring this flower.

O walk with me, ye jaded brows,

And I will sing the song I found

Making a lonely rippling sound

Under the boughs.

The tinkle of the brook is there,

And cow-bells wandering through the fern,

And silver calls

From waterfalls,

And echoes floating through the air

From happiness I know not where,

And hum and drone where'er I turn

Of little lives that buzz and die;

And sudden lucent melodies,

Like hidden strings among the trees

Roofing the summer sky.

The soft breath of the briar I bring,

And wafted scents of mint and clover,

Rain-distilled balms the hill-winds fling,

Sweet-thoughted as a lover;

Incense from lilied urns a-swaying,

And the green smell of grass

Where men are haying.

As through the streets I pass,

With their shrill clatter,

This largesse from the hills and streams,

This quietude of flowers and dreams,

Round me I scatter.