Erystain after Rain

 

The escallonia smells sweet
After a shower of rain,
Its waxy flowers like babies’ feet
Shine in the sun again.

The dark green leaves all polished shine
Like cameos in jade,
The twining stems of eglantine
With diamonds are arrayed.

A thousand perfumes fill the air,
The senses swim and reel;
Washed of its dust the garden fair
Fresh beauty doth reveal.

Insects are busy at the feet,
And bees are droning by;
Steam rises in the sudden heat
As clouds vacate the sky.

Tall trees are poised as if to go
Yet move nor branch nor leaf.
They frame a picture where doth show
The golden corn in sheaf.

Beyond the hills a pale blue stain
Tells where the steamers are,
And in the port a window pane
Gleams like a wayward star.

A mountain brook runs chattering past
With music high and clear,
Eager to sing its song at last
Into the ocean’s ear.

A bird takes up the hurried tale
Down in the orchard bright;
And out to sea a crimson sail
Fades slowly out of sight.

September, 1926