White clouds, like thistledown at fault, <br />That drift through heaven's azure vault. <br />The sun beams down; the weedy ground <br />Vibrates with many an insect sound. <br />Blackberry-lilies in the noon <br />Lean to the creek with eyes a-swoon, <br />Where, in a shallow, silver gleams <br />Of minnows and a heron dreams <br />An old road, clouding pale the heat <br />Behind a slow hoof's muffled beat: <br />And there, hill-gazing at the skies, <br />A pond, within whose languor lies <br />A twinkle, like an eye that smiles <br />In thought; that with a dream beguiles <br />The day: a. dream of clouds that drift, <br />And arms the willow trees uplift, <br />Protectingly, as if to hide <br />The wildbird on its nest that cried. <br />Now mists that mass thesunset-dyes <br />Build an Arabia in the skies, <br />Through which the sun in pomp retires, <br />Torched to his room with saffron fires; <br />And 'thwart his palace door is laid <br />A crescent sign, a moony blade, <br />Then glittering in a cloud is sheathed; <br />And, dripping crimson, fire-wreathed, <br />A magic scimetar of flame <br />Is slowly drawn before the same. <br />The door of Day is closed; its bar <br />Put up, one bright and golden star; <br />While, crowding all the corridors <br />Of Dusk, the shadows, blackamoors <br />Of darkness, glide; and zephyrs sweep <br />Mist-gowns of musk through halls of Sleep <br />Dim odalisques of Night, who wait <br />Upon their lord who lies in state.<br /><br />Madison Julius Cawein<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-summer-day-8/
