TWO raptures are there; one is of the spring;
Life leaps down all her sources and is glad
With gladness that enfolds each humblest thing.
Furrows teem fragrant, trees with buds go mad;
Music and color and a sunbright glee
Turn sullen earth into sweet Arcady.
The autumn’s rapture is a soberer wight,
But deep in tender dreams and rich in rare
Designs, and mellow harmonies of light.
The hills lie steeped in memories most fair,
The forests blaze with visions, and the year,
Two-minded, mingles elegies of dearth
With hopeful hymns of yet triumphant birth,
When May returns, when Spring again is here.
Richard Burton.
Life leaps down all her sources and is glad
With gladness that enfolds each humblest thing.
Furrows teem fragrant, trees with buds go mad;
Music and color and a sunbright glee
Turn sullen earth into sweet Arcady.
The autumn’s rapture is a soberer wight,
But deep in tender dreams and rich in rare
Designs, and mellow harmonies of light.
The hills lie steeped in memories most fair,
The forests blaze with visions, and the year,
Two-minded, mingles elegies of dearth
With hopeful hymns of yet triumphant birth,
When May returns, when Spring again is here.
Richard Burton.
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