Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — Airy Tongues

I

There is a song the wet leaves lisp When Morn comes down the woodland way;

And misty as a thistle-wisp Her gown gleams, windy gray: A song that seems to say, “Awake!

’tis day!

” There is a sigh when Day sits down Beside the sunlight-lulled lagoon;

While on her glistening hair and gown The rose of rest is strew: A sigh, that seems to croon, “Come rest!

’tis noon!

” There is a whisper when the stars, Above an evening-purpled height, Crown the dead Day with nenuphars Of fire, gold and white: A voice, that seems t’ invite, “Come love!

’tis night!

” II

Before the rathe song-sparrow sings Among the haw-trees in the lane, And to the wind the locust flings Its early clusters fresh with rain;

Beyond the morning-star, that swings Its rose of fire above the spire, Between the morning’s watchet wings, A wild voice rings o’er brooks and boughs-- “Arouse!

arouse!

” Before the first brown owlet cries Among the grape-vines on the hill, And in the dam with half-shut eyes The lilies rock above the mill;

Beyond the oblong moon, that flies, A pearly flower, above the tower, Between the twilight’s primrose skies, A soft voice sighs, from east to west-- “To rest!

to rest!

”