When roses bloom in wayside nooks And summer dreams where drowsy brooks Blink lazily in shifting shade Of listless leaves; when ripples wade Through glossy waves of streamside grass With languid sighs, and zephyrs pass Like phantom songs through dusky woods, Filling the perfumed solitudes With deep, entrancing restfulness— Then would we flee the toil and stress Of labor days to seek the ease And midday twilight of the trees. In dreamful nooks when roses bloom And locusts ravel from the gloom Of maple tops an aimless chime, Outfloating like a wisp of time Clipped from the distaff of the Fates And loosed to drift to chance estates— Then, sailing with this strand of song, The fancy wanders where a throng Of restful visions, calm and pure, To scenes of perfect peace allure, And care becomes a minor chord That thrills a hymn to nature's Lord! When roses bloom and summer smiles From all her fragrant, flowered miles Seductively, and so invites To her still, sensuous delights Half hid in gauzy draperies Of shade and sheen in lisping seas Of green, dim woods; when from a zone Of blossom gold a monotone Ripe with content flows like a psalm Of joy serene, a holy calm Laves thought and soul in sacred rest, And sorrow sleeps on nature's breast. In dreamland nooks, O friend! regain The joy of life—forget the vain And fierce pursuit of sordid things And all the mad world's buffetings. When roses bloom the gilded bee Reigns in a flower throne, and she Hums blithely songs of bloom and shine And sips of sacramental wine No rarer than who wills may sip With thirsty heart and thankful lip Within the shadow-arbored ways Of restful, ripe midsummer days. |