Poems (Dorr)/Afternoon
For works with similar titles, see Afternoon.
AFTERNOON
O perfect day, I bid thee stay!Too fast thy glad hours slip away The morn, the noon, Have fled too soon—Delay, O golden afternoon!
O peerless Sun, Thou radiant oneWhose dazzling course is half-way run, Stay, stay thy flight Down yon blue height,Nor haste thee to the arms of night!
The west wind blows O'er beds of rose,But does not stir my deep repose. In dreamful guise I close mine eyes,Borne on its wings to Paradise.
Beneath this tree Half consciouslyI share the life of all things free, Hearing the beat Of rhythmic feet,As the grasses run my hand to meet.
The wild bee's hum, The lone bird's drum,O'er the wide pastures faintly come; And soft and clear Falls on my earThe cow-bell's tinkle, far and near!
Before my eyes Three blue peaks rise,Piercing the bright autumnal skies; Silent and grand, On either hand,Far mountain heights majestic stand.
By wreaths of mist The vales are kissed—Fair, floating clouds of amethyst, That follow on, Through shade and sun,Where'er the river's course may run.
Here, looking down On roof-trees brown,I catch fair glimpses of the town. There, far away, The shadows playOn crags and bowlders, huge and gray.
All whispering low, The breezes go—The wandering birds flit to and fro Winged motes float by Me as I lie,And yellow leaves drop silently.
The morn, the noon, Have fled too soon—Delay, O golden afternoon, While with rapt eyes My spirit fliesFrom yon blue peaks to Paradise!