Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GOD'S WEATHER: MAY, by ELIZABETH SEWELL HILL


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

GOD'S WEATHER: MAY, by                    
First Line: There's a blurr'd roll of drumbeats. The soft south wind straying
Last Line: With the sigh of the southwind, the balm of god's weather.
Subject(s): Flowers; Gardens & Gardening; Months; Old Age; Spring


There's a blurr'd roll of drumbeats. The soft south wind straying
In to fresh whitewashed walls, in thro' clean curtains swaying;
Stealing warm over birdbills, honeysuckles a-Maying,
Over piled baskets swinging from plied knockers' playing;
Past peonies, trilliums, syringas, outstaying
The first flush of spring; in from gardens fresh growing,
Clean swept;

On where, close-ranged, the head-stones are showing
Enwreathed and enshrined in love's full-tide outflowing,
Starr'd with flags under battle-shot, stained banners streaming
Down the long aisles' new shadows—the enfilading fifes screaming
To drumbeats.

And slow feet, as the last salute flashes,
Step softly—rapt dreamers—down the ranked graves' heal'd gashes,
Back with Duty's shocked call while the war-fury lashes—
The Call's cause, the conflict, war's upper and nether;
The Call's cause and Fame's upmost, or ungratefulest nether,—
With the futile fife's screaming, the drumbeat's worn leather,
Halting back down the long dusty street—back together,
With the wearisome years, thro' the evening, together,
With the sigh of the southwind, the balm of God's weather.





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