| |
| BY channels of coolness the echoes are calling, | |
| And down the dim gorges I hear the creek falling; | |
| It lives in the mountain, where moss and the sedges | |
| Touch with their beauty the banks and the ledges; | |
| Through brakes of the cedar and sycamore bowers | 5 |
| Struggles the light that is love to the flowers. | |
| And, softer than slumber, and sweeter than singing, | |
| The notes of the bell-birds are running and ringing. | |
| |
| The silver-voiced bell-birds, the darlings of day-time, | |
| They sing in September their songs of the May-time. | 10 |
| When shadows wax strong, and the thunder-bolts hurtle, | |
| They hide with their fear in the leaves of the myrtle; | |
| When rain and the sunbeams shine mingled together | |
| They start up like fairies that follow fair weather, | |
| And straightway the hues of their feathers unfolden | 15 |
| Are the green and the purple, the blue and the golden. | |
| |
| October, the maiden of bright yellow tresses, | |
| Loiters for love in these cool wildernesses: | |
| Loiters knee-deep in the grasses to listen, | |
| Where dripping rocks gleam and the leafy pools glisten. | 20 |
| Then is the time when the water-moons splendid | |
| Break with their gold, and are scattered or blended | |
| Over the creeks, till the woodlands have warning | |
| Of songs of the bell-bird and wings of the morning. | |
| |
| Welcome as waters unkissed by the summers | 25 |
| Are the voices of bell-birds to thirsty far-comers. | |
| When fiery December sets foot in the forest, | |
| And the need of the wayfarer presses the sorest, | |
| Pent in the ridges for ever and ever, | |
| The bell-birds direct him to spring and to river, | 30 |
| With ring and with ripple, like runnels whose torrents | |
| Are toned by the pebbles and leaves in the currents. | |
| |
| Often I sit, looking back to a childhood | |
| Mixt with the sights and the sounds of the wildwood, | |
| Longing for power and the sweetness to fashion | 35 |
| Lyrics with beats like the heart-beats of passion— | |
| Songs interwoven of lights and of laughters | |
| Borrowed from bell-birds in far forest rafters; | |
| So I might keep in the city and alleys | |
| The beauty and strength of the deep mountain valleys, | 40 |
| Charming to slumber the pain of my losses | |
| With glimpses of creeks and a vision of mosses. | |
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