Page:Ambarvalia - Clough (1849).djvu/123

 May, violet, primrose, all and each She welcomes with a kindly speech, Which, passing on the air, Cheers every root; nor ill content Leans the low daisy on the bent, For she hath had her share.

Meek subject, Evening, of thy reign, The river vails his glittering train, And round the misty field Flows silently, his easier breast, (With warring lights no more distrest,) Half seen and half concealed.

With what a spirit-light the trees Attire themselves at thy first breeze! —A light as it were thrown From that deep joy that works like grief; Which now in every delicate leaf Is settling into stone.

Nor lifeless things alone obey Thy rule: beneath the alders gray The dazzling gnats appear, Thy minstrelsy!—a humble quire, Yet joyful as the festive lyre If but the heart can hear.