MORAVIAN LANDSCAPE
The dust trails on the lonely road,
In heavy accents crenks the dray;
The black-maned horses drag their load,
At tardy pace upon their way.
Upon the white, unending track,
The drowsy carrier casts his gaze;
Miles lie before and miles lie back,
Tree and post are steeped in haze.
Poplar after poplar straying,
Pear-tree, apple-tree, and plane;
Summer-heat o'er meadow playing,
The corn-field rustles, rich in grain.
Strings of the mighty lyre to hear,
The quivering air upon them floats;
As in the country far and near,
From other worlds were borne their notes.
Is any nigh, their song to heed?
The carrier nods, in calm and peace;
'Mid sweltering heat the shoots bear seed—
Can ought here from its slumber cease?
"A Vintage" (1911).
