Core: noun, the most important part of a thing, the essence; from the Latin cor, meaning heart.

Click for Main Weblog

  Needless Commentary from Small-Town America  

   
The Weblog at The View from the Core - Sat. 08/05/06 08:51:17 AM
   
         
         
   

"A Summer Evening"

Random Poetry List LXII

The living woods forego their care,
   Their dread of autumn's mortal wing,
And shake their birds upon the air,
   And like a silver trumpet ring.

The giddy bee's complacent croon,
   Where long grey grasses bow and bend,
In all its honey-thickened tune
   has no word of the sulphurous end.

The sunflowers weave a golden clime,
   As though their season had no date,
Nod to the iron shoes of Time,
   And play with his immortal hate.

And, maiden, be thou mirthful too,
   Lay down the burden of thy race,
For God is walking in the dew,
   An evening presence fills the place.

The hollow woodlands feel Him there,
   And dread no more foul autumn's wing,
And shake their birds upon the air,
   And like a silver trumpet ring.

W. B. Yeats (Irish, 1865-1939)

Originally e-mailed on Thursday, August 05, 1999 @ 10:22 PM.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Sat. 08/05/06 08:51:17 AM
Categorized as Literary & Random Poetry List.

   
         
         

The Blog from the Core © 2002-2008 E. L. Core. All rights reserved.

  Needless Commentary from Small-Town America  


The View from the Core, and all original material, © 2002-2004 E. L. Core. All rights reserved.

Cor ad cor loquitur J. H. Newman — “Heart speaks to heart”