Heavy is the green
of the fields, heavy the trees
With foliage hang,
drowsy the hum of bees
In the thund'rous
air; the crowded scents lie low:
Thro' tangle of
weeds the river runneth slow.
Robert Bridges (1844-1930)
The earth was
green, the sky was blue:
I heard one sunny
morn
A skylark hang
between the two,
A singing speck
above the corn.
A stage below, in
gay accord,
White butterflies
danced on the wing,
And still the
singing skylark soared
And silent sank,
and soared again to sing.
The cornfield
stretched a tender green
To right sand left
besides my walks;
I knew he had a
nest, unseen,
Somewhere amongst a
million stalks.
And as I paused to
hear his song
While swift the
sunny moments slid,
Perhaps his mate
sat listening long;
Perhaps ev'n longer
than I did.
Christina Rosetti (1830-1894)
