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.