SEASONAL POETRY

Evening Post, Volume CXXV, Issue 112, 14 May 1938, Page 26

SEASONAL POETRY

SUMMER AND AUTUMN INVERSE. "L.D.A." writes:—-A recent "Bookman" article by "AM." prompted me to renew acquaintance with the poetry which be so aptly quoted. -This pleasant occupation brought'to mind other vfcrse upon the year's seasonal changes—not all, perhaps, of a calibre to satisfy the delicately fastidious,. but containing, nevertheless, a considerable vein of true poesy. Thus, for instance, William Gillespie, a forgotten poet; How sweet at. noon, to alt and muse Beneath the shadow of some ancient elm. While at niy feet the mazy streamlet flows In tuneful lapse, laving the flowers that bend To kiss Its tide; whUd sport the finny throng On the smooth surface of the crystal depths In silvery circlets,,or In shallows > leaps, ,■! That sparkle to-the sunbeam's trembling glare. Around the tiny Jets, where humid bells Break as they form, the water-spiders weave, Brisk on the' eddying pools' their ceaseless dance. \ ' - The wild-bee .winds her &orn,;lost Is the cups ; Of honied blossoms; faithfully she works, While o'er the Summer's lap Is heard the hum Of countless Insects sporting on the wing, Inviting. sle,ep. And from the leafy -woods - A various song of bursting joy ascends ' When, borne on fluttering plumes. In circling » maze- ■! The happy birds flit through thft. balmy air. The bleat of lambs, the low of browsing herd, All wake to ecstasy, and raise the soul Toward the sun, exhaustless source of life— -. Forever 'flowing, yet forever full. Another long-vanished bard, John Houseman, sings with gay; though, per» haps, obvious lilt: '. " ' The Summer! The Summer! The exquisite time \ Of the red rose's blush, and the nightingale's chime; . The. chant of the lark, and the boom of the bee— The season of gladness, of beauty; and glee I Bright Summer Is here, and Illumines again, With sun-braided smiles, the deep heart of the : glen; It la touching the mountain and tinging the 1 hill. And dimpling the surface of streamlet and rill; It is flooding the forest trees richly with bloom And .flinging gold showers in the lap of the ! broom;! 1 . i Soft and sultry the air, while the faint breezes . . ...pass, - ■ ' ;■ ; ': Gently murmuring, over the shadow-flecked grass. . ' i COme awayl to the shelter of sweet-scented bow'rs, •' Where exquisite Summer Invites happy hours. But the autumn poet's fancy lightly turns to thoughts like these: Then see the fading many-colour'd woods, ' ■ Shade, deepening over shade, the country round Imbrown; a crowded umbrage, dusk, and dun. Of every huo, from wan declining green To sooty dark. These now the lonesome muse. Low whispering, lead Into their leaf-strewn , walks, Arid-give the season'ln 'Its latest view. The pale-descending year, yet pleasing still, A gentle mood Inspires, for now the leaf Incessant rustles from the mournful grove, And slowly circles through the waving air. But should a quicker breeze bestir the boughs. Soon o'er the sky the leafy deluge streams; Till, choked and matted with the restless shower, The forest-walks, at every ' rising gale. 801 l wide the wlther'd waste, and whistle bleak. (James Thomson.) And these lines, by Southey, have an appeal: To you the beauties ot the autumnal year Make mournful .emblems, and you think of man Doom'd to the grave's long winter, spirit-broken, Bending beneath the burden of his years, Sense-dtfll'd and fretful, "full of aches and pains," Yet clinclng still to life. To mo they shew The calm decay of Nature when the mind Retains Its strength, and in the languid eye Religion's holy hopes kindle a Joy That makes old age seem lovely. Oh, my friend. That thy faith were as mlnel That thou could'st see Death still producing life, and evil still Working it-Wown destruction: could'st behold The strifes and troubles of this troubled world With the strong eye that sees the promised day DaWn through this night of tempest I All things then Would minister to ioy: then should thine heart Be heal'd and harmonised, and thou would'st feel nod, always, everywhere, and all In all. To "those who chafe under the present autumn of discontent, the message of those concluding lines may'be commended.