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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BUCOLIC COMEDY: THE FIVE MUSICIANS by EDITH SITWELL

Poet Analysis

First Line: THE BLUE-LEAVED FIG-TREES SWELL WITH LAUGHTER
Last Line: IN THE SLEEPY HOUSE OF SIR ROTHERHAM REDDE!
THE blue-leaved fig-trees swell with laughter,
Gold fissures split the ripe fruits after,

And like a gold-barred tiger, shade
Leaps in the darkness that they made.

The long-ribbed leaves shed light that dapples
Silenus like a tun of apples;

Gold-freckled, fruit-shaped faces stare
At nymphs with bodies white as air.

The ancient house rocked emptily
"Horned brothers, creep inside and see

Through my tall windows: the abode
Of noise is on the dusty road."

They creep . . . strange hands are on the hasp . . .
Silenus, sleepy as a wasp,

Amid the fruit-ripe heat, as in
An apricot or nectarine,

Replies, "The dust is wise and old . . .
For glistening fruits and Ophir's gold

Are gathered there to wake again
In our flesh, like a tune's refrain."

The five musicians with their bray
Shatter the fruit-ripe heat of day;

Their faces, wrinkled, kind, and old,
Are masked by the hot sun with gold;

Like fountains of blue water, gush
Their beards. Strange-feathered birds that hush,

Their song, move not so proud as these
Smiles floating, ageless courtesies.

They stand upon the dust outside;
Their tunes like drops of water died.

Yet still we hear their slow refrain,
"King Pharaoh, gay lad, come again!"

Miss Nettybun, beneath the tree,
Perceives that it is time for tea

And takes the child, a muslined moon,
Through the lustrous leaves of afternoon.

And tea-time comes with strawberry
Jam -- yet where, oh @3where@1, is she?

On that music floating, gone
To China and to Babylon;

Never again she'll go to bed
In the sleepy house of Sir Rotherham Redde!



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