"What beautiful lawns! Here is a place to dream in."
What (said the poet) should we care For all this mad world's phantasies, For rumours rife upon the air Of terrors looming overseas? If so, the soul were plagued alway With far-fetched grieving, what of mirth? For somewhere sorror broods all day; Yet laughter, too, inhabits earth. For the sun shines and the grass grows, And the ferns nod above the stream That down this placid valley flows; Then let us rest a while, and dream. For the grass grows as the sun shines, And the stream flows and sings a song To chide the sad heart that repines Ah, summer, summer, linger long! What (I gave answer) badgers me Are not the tragedies of earth. Despite your gay philosophy Of seeking joy and claiming mirth For boon companions as you go, Oft times these very joys oppress And suns that shine and streams that flow May be a source of weariness. For the grass grows and the sun gleams To sear the grass and, where they flow, I must bring water from the streams To make the blinking grass to grow. And the sun gleams and the grass grows -- Indeed I know it well enough; For as it springs where water flows I've got to cut the blasted stuff.
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2003|