The scented zephyr whispers down the hill.
\nThe trees droop low to catch his message sweet.
\nRippling, it flows from bough to bough until
\nIt tells me, murmuring softly and discreet.
\nMy love is nigh \u2013 and all my pulses fill
\nWith longing: while the summer beauties fleet
\nUnseen, unmarked, before my eyes that strain
\nFor that first glimpse of her whose magic
\nStirs my brain.<\/p>\n
The summer takes a fresher sweetness now
\nThe flow\u2019rets bloom in colours yet more fair
\nAnd those caressing breezes softer flow
\nAnd add more radiant perfume to the air.
\nEnchanted, Nature\u2019s beauties brighter glow.
\nShe dons a magic loveliness more rare.
\nMy love is nigh \u2013 the earth becomes more bright,
\nAnd learns to show more lovely in my
\nloved one\u2019s sight.<\/p>\n
The brazen sun his boldness finds too gay,
\nConfronted with that beauty: and apace
\nRed and asham\u2019d, he hastes to flee away:
\nAnd earth, relieved, still finds a newer grace
\nWhen he is gone. And in the twilight grey
\nEthereal shines that perfect wistful face.With benediction stars awake high above
\nAnd all my heart goes out in strong
\nAbiding love.<\/p>\n
In passion\u2019s colours, scarlet, purple, mauve.
\nThe sun expires: and silver floods the land
\nAll virginal and pure the moonbeams rove
\nAnd line with light the earth on ev\u2019ry hand.
\nThere, where the fierce descending Phoebus strove
\nWith Dian\u2019s onrush, now a stately band
\nWhite, fleecy clouds, float through the steel-blue sky
\nOn earth is peace, and in my soul, for Love is nigh.<\/p>\n
The nestling villages in silence sleep
\nThe little rivers murmur quietly.
\nAthwart the moonlit hills the shadows creep
\nAnd all the night seems full of mystery.
\nIt\u2019s silences my inmost fibres steep
\nAnd lull my spirit to an ecstacy.
\nCathedral-like the stillness broods, and rest
\nSentient of Love, lies like a garment on Earth\u2019s breast.<\/p>\n
Gailes
\nJuly 1916<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The scented zephyr whispers down the hill. The trees droop low to catch his message sweet. Rippling, it flows from bough to bough until It tells me, murmuring softly and discreet. My love is nigh \u2013 and all my pulses fill With longing: while the summer beauties fleet Unseen, unmarked, before my eyes that strain Continue Reading »<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":7,"featured_media":0,"parent":2615,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0},"acf":[],"yoast_head":"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\t\n