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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
JULY, by MAHLON LEONARD FISHER
First Line: It must be summer: but of such a calm
Last Line: Close to a stone, and in her own shade sleeps.
Subject(s): July
First Line: It must be summer: but of such a calm
Last Line: Close to a stone, and in her own shade sleeps.
Subject(s): July
It must be summer: but of such a calm
Doth Winter weave his dream of cloaking snow.
Of attar'd airs that are, no air's ablow;
And yet from somewhere, as it were a balm,
Blows incense slowly. Slowly, like a psalm
Or slowly-said responses, slips the stream:
A slim and silvery minnow does it seem,
'Mid grasses grasping, in the Meadow's palm.
No bird need sing to-day, and no bird sings:
This stillness is enough: it is to me
The muted prelude to Eternity;
A summing up of hushed and ended things;
The balancing of Nature's books, who creeps
Close to a stone, and in her own shade sleeps.
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