When Sirius shines, a fulgent fire,
And locusts in a drowsy choir
At noon within the maples drone,
And pines at nightfall make sad moan
Like waves upon the rocks of Tyre,
Then strike the softly sounding lyre,
And let the soaring song rise higher,
Or fall to minor monotone,
When Sirius shines.
But should the chiming voices tire,
And thoughts of past and vain desire
Refill the mind, as doves once flown
Return to cotes aforetime known,
Then let the soul to heaven aspire,
When Sirius shines.
Clinton Scollard.
AT PEEP OF DAWN.
At peep of dawn the daffodil
That slumbers 'neath the grassy hill
Greets smilingly, with lifted head,
The rosy morn's oncoming tread,
The thrush sings matins by the rill.
The swallows from the ruined mill
Go coursing through the air, and fill
The sky with songs till then unsaid
At peep of dawn.
No harbinger of day is still.
With pipe new tuned and merry trill,
The lark uprises from her bed
'Mong grasses wet with dews unshed,
And puts to shame the whip-poor-will
At peep of dawn.
Clinton Scollard.