Weeds by the Wall: Verses. Madison Julius Cawein

Where the cows wade deep through the blue-eyed grass,

       And the flickering dragonflies gleaming pass.

      That road is easy, however long,

       Which wends with beauty as toil with song;

       And the road we follow shall lead us straight

       Past creek and wood to a farmhouse gate.

      Past hill and hollow, whence scents are blown

       Of dew-wet clover that scythes have mown;

       To a house that stands with porches wide

       And gray low roof on the green hill-side.

      Colonial, stately; 'mid shade and shine

       Of the locust-tree and the Southern pine;

       With its orchard acres and meadowlands

       Stretched out before it like welcoming hands.

      And gardens, where, in the myrrh-sweet June,

       Magnolias blossom with many a moon

       Of fragrance; and, in the feldspar light

       Of August, roses bloom red and white.

      In a woodbine arbor, a perfumed place,

       A slim girl sits with a happy face;

       Her bonnet by her, a sunbeam lies

       On her lovely hair, in her earnest eyes.

      Her eyes, as blue as the distant deeps

       Of the heavens above where the high hawk sleeps;

       A book beside her, wherein she read

       Till she saw him coming, she heard his tread.

      Come home at last; come back from the war;

       In his eyes a smile, on his brow a scar;

       To the South come back—who wakes from her dream

       To the love and peace of a new regime.

A TWILIGHT MOTH.

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