Country Largesse

I bring a message from the stream To fan the burning cheeks of town, From morning's tower Of pearl and rose I bring this cup of crystal down, With brimming dews agleam, And from my lady's garden close I bring this flower. O walk with me, ye jaded brows, And I will sing the song I found Making a lonely rippling sound Under the boughs. The tinkle of the brook is there, And cow-bells wandering through the fern, And silver calls From waterfalls, And echoes floating through the air From happiness I know not where, And hum and drone where'er I turn Of little lives that buzz and die; And sudden lucent melodies, Like hidden strings among the trees Roofing the summer sky. The soft breath of the briar I bring, And wafted scents of mint and clover, Rain-distilled balms the hill-winds fling, Sweet-thoughted as a lover; Incense from lilied urns a-swaying, And the green smell of grass Where men are haying. As through the streets I pass, With their shrill clatter, This largesse from the hills and streams, This quietude of flowers and dreams, Round me I scatter.