Stoneleigh Poem by Bessie Rayner Parkes

LONG winding lanes and hedges red with bloom
Of sweet wild robin, and starr'd with tender white;
A sun down dropping gold on summer green
Of perfum'd woods, whose laced foliage shows,
In sudden glimpses, depths unfathomable
Of the far coolness, bower on bower of leaves,
Various in shade and shape; which following,
They're lost in sudden darkness of thick trees,
Or branch far up upon the dim blue sky.
And here are nests of birds, whole colonies
Of poets singing ever; nightingales
As in old Grecian woods; not mournfully,
But in glad bursts and far resounding calls
Filling the air with music holiest. We
Stay here awhile and listen: on the faint
Sweet breath of the wind comes tuneful insect hum,
Mix'd with a rustle of the swaying leaves,
Bass to the birds' clear treble--'Beautiful!'

Trot on again, dear pony, thro' boss'd stems
Huge in their venerable age, green slopes
Of tall June grass, thick set with sorrel, on fire
With poppies, royally gemm'd with buttercups,
Ripe to the mower's scythe. The grove-crown'd hills
Swell up on either side, divinely rais'd,
Stretching away with distant sunlit copes.

On--crossing 'shallow rivers;' verily
They must be those unto whose grassy banks
The shepherd woo'd his darling; they flow by
With such a pleasant rustle over stones,
'Mid moss and water-lilies, and eddies bright,
And deeper lucent pools, where silver fish
Dart ever to and fro. The lazy groups
Of meek-eyed cattle saunter down to drink,
And, standing ankle deep, look startled up
At our unwonted wheels. By Stoneleigh bridge
Are dotted cottages, with tottering babes,
And smoke that wreathes against the trees and sky.

I scarce can think, on this luxurious eve,
That dismal towns exist, tho' tapering spires
Rise far away, and warn us such there be;
Towns with the thronged street and smoky air,--
Towns with close alleys breeding fever-plagues,--
Towns of sad men. Oh blessed summer sun!
As thou art to this landscape, which were dull
And bare indeed without thee, so may we
Be to the shadowy places round us, full
Of an interior radiance, shedding forth
A stedfast light of tenderness and truth.