A languid atmosphere, a lazy breeze, With labored respiration, moves the wheat From distant reaches, till the golden seas Break in crisp whispers at my feet. My book, neglected of an idle mind, Hides for a moment from the eyes of men; Or lightly opened by a critic wind, Affrightedly reviews itself again. Off through the haze that dances in the shine The warm sun showers in the open glade, The forest lies, a silhouette design Dimmed through and through with shade. A dreamy day; and tranquilly I lie At anchor from all storms of mental strain; With absent vision, gazing at the sky, "Like one that hears it rain." The Katydid, so boisterous last night, Clinging, inverted, in uneasy poise, Beneath a wheat-blade, has forgotten quite If "Katy @3did@1 or @3didn't@1" make a noise. The twitter, sometimes, of a wayward bird That checks the song abruptly at the sound, And mildly, chiding echoes that have stirred, Sink into silence, all the more profound. And drowsily I hear the plaintive strain Of some poor dove . . . Why, I can scarcely keep My heavy eyelids -- there it is again -- "Coo-coo!" -- I mustn't -- "Coo-coo!" -- fall asleep! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...MENAPHON: DORON'S JIG by ROBERT GREENE RAIN ON THE ROOF (1) by COATES KINNEY A FOREIGN RULER by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR GOOD-NIGHT by PHILIP EDWARD THOMAS A DRINKING SONG by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS |