15.07.2007, 12:27
The Shady Lane
Whence comest thou, shady lane? and why and how?
Thou, where with idle heart ten years ago
I wandered and with childhood's paces slow,
So long unthought of, and remembered now.
Again in vision clear thy pathwayed side
I tread, and view thy orchard plots again
With yellow fruitage hung,--and glimmering grain
Standing or shocked through the thick hedge espied.
This hot still noon of August brings the sight;
This quelling silence as of eve or night,
Wherein earth (feeling as a mother will
After her travail's latest bitterest throes)
Looks up, so seemeth it one half repose,
One half in effort, straining, suffering still.
Whence comest thou, shady lane? and why and how?
Thou, where with idle heart ten years ago
I wandered and with childhood's paces slow,
So long unthought of, and remembered now.
Again in vision clear thy pathwayed side
I tread, and view thy orchard plots again
With yellow fruitage hung,--and glimmering grain
Standing or shocked through the thick hedge espied.
This hot still noon of August brings the sight;
This quelling silence as of eve or night,
Wherein earth (feeling as a mother will
After her travail's latest bitterest throes)
Looks up, so seemeth it one half repose,
One half in effort, straining, suffering still.