In A Canoe

From shade to light, from light to shade, The overbending boughs between, I glide, as in a fairy glade, Till the sweet summer day is made A melody of summer green. The meadows all are clothed with light, As with a garment, and the heat Swims dreamful where the grass is dight With ox-eye daisies and the white Of lady’s smock and meadow-sweet. And clear-cut in the quiet air Move large brown outlines of the cows, That nose Earth’s verdure fresh and fair And scatter far its perfume where With peaceful onward push they browse. Beside the brink the swift stream lags, And spreads its liquid arms to cool The golden-flowered phalanx of flags Whereby the water-wagtail wags Its mirrored head in many a pool. And here a swallow lightly skims Or strikes the broad flood, breast to breast, And there in shady hollow swims The lazy roach between wet rims Of water-lilies, where they rest. Here by an overhanging bank The sunlit soft transparent wave Reveals a myriad lives that prank In giddy dance within the dank Deep water-world which is their grave; And there a wild rose overblown Showers red rain on the shining way, And the fair moving fields are sown With countless blossoms random-thrown And gliding downwards with the day; And here and there a willow dips And dallies with the dimpling plain, But evermore the river slips Onward--as from a maiden’s lips Some low melodious refrain. And with a soft and rippling sound The little bark fleets onward too, By bushy brake and meadow-bound, The swimming swirling curves around, Till in a slumbrous swoon the view Slides swiftly shifting, and the shades Grow longer, and the evening light Dies, and the sunset splendour fades Slowly against the stars of night.

CAMBRIDGE, 1869.