. Out-door reveries. ods are kindly,To all who with her commune;Tis only the thoughtless, blindly Mourn summer as gone too soon. There are scenes for eyes that see them,Throughout the passing year, And a ceaseless, soothing anthemEver sounding for ears that hear. 34 Outdoor Reveries NIGHT ON THE ROSEAU. It is night upon the Roseau, The winds have died away;And landscape glistens in the lightOf firmaments array. The stars on high are strivingTo shed their brightest beam; Each rivaled by another, Reflected in the stream. The bashful moon, all blushing red,Just rising, takes a peep, Oer swamp, an
. Out-door reveries. ods are kindly,To all who with her commune;Tis only the thoughtless, blindly Mourn summer as gone too soon. There are scenes for eyes that see them,Throughout the passing year, And a ceaseless, soothing anthemEver sounding for ears that hear. 34 Outdoor Reveries NIGHT ON THE ROSEAU. It is night upon the Roseau, The winds have died away;And landscape glistens in the lightOf firmaments array. The stars on high are strivingTo shed their brightest beam; Each rivaled by another, Reflected in the stream. The bashful moon, all blushing red,Just rising, takes a peep, Oer swamp, and stream, and tangled wood-The wilderness asleep. Coyly she glances at the scene— Softly her blushes fall,Through interlacing branches, On the Nomads canvas wall. She takes the bodkins from her hair,And silvered ringlets quiver, Then casts shy glances at herself,Deep in the polished river. Higher and higher she wheels aloft, Full robed in silver light;Then proudly to the world proclaims. Herself the queen of 36 Outdoor Reveries A muskrat slowly threads its way Across the rivers face;Its course the broken waters, And dancing moonbeams trace. Two spreading lines of ripples, The polished surface mars,And sets in tuneful motion, Reflected moon and stars. Deep stillness hovers over all, Save now and then a break,As faint the notes of wild fowl float Across a distant lake. Or through the glittering moonbeams fall, The waveys sad refrain,As through night, as arrows flight, They plow the queens domain. Jack Frost, the tireless weaver,Is working might and main, Among the leafless branchesTo clothe them all again. The pale old moon, the tired moon,Swings low along the west; With languid glow, serene and slow,Sinks peacefully to rest. Outdoor Reveries 37 HID IN THE WOODS. Hid in the woods, deep in the solemn shade, A shimmering lake serenely peeping through Beneath the boughs, the soft mold overlaid With rustling leaves that autumn breezes strew. The hazy Indian summer lifts on
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookpublisherkansa, bookyear1920
