First Day of Summer 2008 III

Summer Night

Among the crooked Lanes, on every Hedge,
The Glow-Worm lights his Gem; and, thro' the Dark,
A moving Radiance twinkles. Evening yields
The world to Night; not in her Winter-Robe
Of massy Stygian Woof, but loose array'd
In Mantle dun. A faint erroneous Ray,
Glanc'd from th' imperfect Surfaces of Things,
Flings half an Image on the straining Eye;
While wavering Woods, and Villages, and Streams,
And Rocks, and Mountain-tops, that long retain'd
Th' ascending Gleam, are all one swimming Scene,
Uncertain if beheld. Sudden to Heaven
Thence weary Vision turns; where, leading soft
The silent Hours of Love, with purest Ray
Sweet Venus shines; and from her genial Rise
When Day-Light sickens, till it springs afresh,
Unrivall'd reigns, the fairest Lamp of Night.

James Thomson (1700-1748)

The Oxford Book of Eighteenth Century Verse (1926), ed. David Nichols Smith, # 161b.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Fri. 06/20/08 09:00:00 PM
Categorized as Literary.

First Day of Summer 2008 II

Summer Evening

Confess'd from yonder slow-extinguish'd Clouds,
All ether softening, sober Evening takes
Her wonted Station in the middle Air;
A thousand Shadows at her Beck. First This
She sends on Earth; then That of deeper Dye
Steals soft behind; and then a Deeper still,
In Circle following Circle, gathers round,
To close the Face of Things. A fresher Gale
Begins to wave the Wood, and stir the Stream,
Sweeping with shadowy Gust the Fields of Corn;
While the Quail clamours for his running Mate.
Wide o'er the thistly Lawn, as swells the Breeze,
A whitening Shower of vegetable Down
Amusive floats. The kind impartial Care
Of Nature nought disdains: thoughtful to feed
Her lowest Sons, and clothe the coming Year,
From Field to Field the feather'd Seed she wings.
   His folded Flock secure, the Shepherd home
Hies, merry-hearted; and by turns relieves
The ruddy milk-maid of her brimming Pail;
The Beauty whom perhaps his witless Heart,
Unknowing what the Joy-mixt Anguish means,
Sincerely loves, by that best Language shown
Of cordial Glances, and obliging Deeds.
Onward they pass, o'er many a panting Height
And Valley sunk, and unfrequented; where
At Fall of Eve the Fairy People throng,
In various Game, and Revelry to pass
The Summer-Night, as Village-Stories tell.
But far about they wander from the Grave
Of him, whom his ungentle Fortune urg'd
Against his own sad Breast to lift the hand
Of impious Violence. The lonely Tower
Is also shunn'd; whose mournful Chambers hold,
So night-struck Fancy dreams, the yelling Ghost.

James Thomson (1700-1748)

The Oxford Book of Eighteenth Century Verse (1926), ed. David Nichols Smith, # 161a.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Fri. 06/20/08 06:00:00 PM
Categorized as Literary.

First Day of Summer 2008 I

Summer Morning

The meek-eyed Morn appears, Mother of Dews,
At first faint-gleaming in the dappled East:
Till far o'er Ether spreads the widening Glow;
And, from before the Lustre of her Face,
White breaks the Clouds away. With quicken'd Step,
Brown Night retires: young Day pours in apace,
And opens all the lawny Prospects wide.
The dripping Rock, the Mountain's misty Top
Swell on the Sight, and brighten with the Dawn.
Blue, thro' the Dusk, the smoking Currents shine;
And from the bladed Field the fearful Hare
Limps, awkward; while along the Forest-glade
The wild Deer trip, and often turning, gaze
At early Passenger. Musick awakes,
The native Voice of undissembled Joy;
And thick around the woodland Hymns arise.
Rous'd by the Cock, the soon-clad Shepherd leaves
His mossy Cottage, where with Peace he dwells;
And from the crowded Fold, in Order, drives
His Flock, to taste the Verdure of the Morn.

James Thomson (1700-1748)

The Oxford Book of Eighteenth Century Verse (1926), ed. David Nichols Smith, # 159.

Lane Core Jr. CIW P — Fri. 06/20/08 09:00:00 AM
Categorized as Literary.