The Path By The Creek.

There is a path that leads     Through purple iron-weeds,     By button-bush and mallow     Along a creek;     A path that wildflowers hallow,     That wild birds seek;     Roofed thick with eglantine     And grape and trumpet-vine.     This side, blackberries sweet     Glow cobalt in the heat;     That side, a creamy yellow,     In summertime     The pawpaws slowly mellow;     And autumn's prime     Strews red the Chickasaw,     Persimmon brown and haw.     The glittering dragon-fly,     A wingd flash, goes by;     And tawny wasp and hornet     Seem gleams that drone;     The beetle, like a garnet,     Slips from the stone;     And butterflies float there,     Spangling with gold the air.     Here the brown thrashers hide,     The chat and cat-bird chide;     The blue kingfisher houses     Above the stream,     And here the heron drowses     Lost in his dream;     The vireo's flitting note     Haunts all the wild remote.     And now a cow's slow bell     Tinkles along the dell;     Where breeze-dropped petals winnow     From blossomy limbs     On waters, where the minnow,     Faint-twinkling, swims;     Where, in the root-arched shade,     Slim prisms of light are laid.     When in the tangled thorn     The new-moon hangs a horn,     Or, 'mid the sunset's islands,     Guides a canoe,     The brown owl in the silence     Calls, and the dew     Beads here its orbs of damp,     Each one a firefly lamp.     Then when the night is still     Here sings the whippoorwill;     And stealthy sounds of crickets,     And winds that pass,     Whispering, through bramble thickets     Along the grass,     Faint with far scents of hay,     Seem feet of dreams astray.     And where the water shines     Dark through tree-twisted vines,     Some water-spirit, dreaming,     Braids in her hair     A star's reflection; seeming     A jewel there;     While all the sweet night long     Ripples her quiet song.     Would I could imitate,     O path, thy happy state!     Making my life all beauty,     All bloom and beam;     Knowing no other duty     Than just to dream,     And far from pain and woe     Lead feet that come and go.     Leading to calm content,     O'er ways the Master went,     Through lowly things and humble,     To peace and love;     Teaching the lives that stumble     To look above,     Forget the world of toil     And all its sad turmoil.