The Farmstead

Yes, I love the homestead. There     In the spring the lilacs blew     Plenteous perfume everywhere;     There in summer gladioles grew     Parallels of scarlet glare.     And the moon-hued primrose cool     Satin-soft and redolent;     Honeysuckles beautiful,     Filling all the air with scent;     Roses red or white as wool.     Roses, glorious and lush,     Rich in tender-tinted dyes,     Like the gay tempestuous rush     Of unnumbered butterflies,     Clustering o'er each bending bush.     Here japonica and box,     And the wayward violets;     Clumps of star-enamelled phlox,     And the myriad flowery jets     Of the twilight four-o'-clocks.     Ah, the beauty of the place!     When the June made one great rose,     Full of musk and mellow grace,     In the garden's humming close,     Of her comely mother face!     Bubble-like, the hollyhocks     Budded, burst, and flaunted wide     Gypsy beauty from their stocks;     Morning glories, bubble-dyed,     Swung in honey-hearted flocks.     Tawny tiger-lilies flung     Doublets slashed with crimson on;     Graceful slave-girls, fair and young,     Like Circassians, in the sun     Alabaster lilies swung.     Ah, the droning of the bee;     In his dusty pantaloons     Tumbling in the fleurs-de-lis;     In the drowsy afternoons     Dreaming in the pink sweet-pea.     Ah, the moaning wildwood-dove!     With its throat of amethyst     Rippled like a shining cove     Which a wind to pearl hath kissed,     Moaning, moaning of its love.     And the insects' gossip thin     From the summer hotness hid     In lone, leafy deeps of green;     Then at eve the katydid     With its hard, unvaried din.     Often from the whispering hills,     Borne from out the golden dusk,     Gold with gold of daffodils,     Thrilled into the garden's musk     The wild wail of whippoorwills.     From the purple-tangled trees,     Like the white, full heart of night,     Solemn with majestic peace,     Swam the big moon, veined with light;     Like some gorgeous golden-fleece.     She was there with me. And who,     In the magic of the hour,     Had not sworn that they could view,     Beading on each blade and flower     Moony blisters of the dew?     And each fairy of our home,     Firefly, its taper lit     In the honey-scented gloam,     Dashing down the dusk with it     Like an instant-flaming foam.     And we heard the calling, calling,     Of the screech-owl in the brake;     Where the trumpet-vine hung, crawling     Down the ledge, into the lake     Heard the sighing streamlet falling.     Then we wandered to the creek     Where the water-lilies, growing     Thick as stars, lay white and weak;     Or against the brooklet's flowing     Bent and bathed a bashful cheek.     And the moonlight, rippling golden,     Fell in virgin aureoles     On their bosoms, half unfolden,     Where, it seemed, the fairies' souls     Dwelt as perfume, unbeholden;     Or lay sleeping, pearly-tented,     Baby-cribbed within each bud,     While the night-wind, piney-scented,     Swooning over field and flood,     Rocked them on the waters dented.     Then the low, melodious bell     Of a sleeping heifer tinkled,     In some berry-briered dell,     As her satin dewlap wrinkled     With the cud that made it swell.     And, returning home, we heard,     In a beech-tree at the gate,     Some brown, dream-behaunted bird,     Singing of its absent mate,     Of the mate that never heard.     And, you see, now I am gray,     Why within the old, old place,     With such memories, I stay;     Fancy out her absent face     Long since passed away.     She was mine yes! still is mine:     And my frosty memory     Reels about her, as with wine     Warmed into young eyes that see     All of her that was divine.     Yes, I loved her, and have grown     Melancholy in that love,     And the memory alone     Of perfection such whereof     She could sanctify each stone.     And where'er the poppies swing     There we walk, as if a bee     Bent them with its airy wing,     Down her garden shadowy     In the hush the evenings bring.