12 THE BREATHING EARTH. By errantry of subtile winds that blow By grateful odors borne from forest mold, By healing essence, lifeful airs, unbound Fast mellowing, Whence, from the smoking, furrowed clods, still come The gnats with ceaseless hum And hovering. The breathing earth! I breathe, and well I guess THE DREAMER. Он, not for her the early violet, The swarm-like buds upon the fruit-trees set, And therefore is it that soft, pitying Sleep, (13) SNOWDROPS. IN snowdrops, well I ween, A pledge betwixt soft Spring Of Spring did touch and sip. ANEMONE. "THOU faintly blushing, dawn-like bloom That springest on the April path, Set round with shivering leafy gloom 'Mong thy companions frail and rath, Why spurnest thou the golden sun, Whom all with still delight receive? Some unknown love thy heart hath won, And whispers thee at morn and eve! How may this be, how may this be, O rare Anemone?" "The wind my sunshine is; the wind, And when my thread of life shall break, And bear along his boundless flight. |