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richard mitchley - henry david thoreau - the summer rain كلمات أغنية

my books i’d fain cast off, i cannot read
‘twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
down in the meadow, where is richer feed
and will not mind to hit their proper target

plutarch was good, and so was homer too
our shakespeare’s life were rich to live again
what plutarch read, that was not good nor true
nor shakespeare’s books, unless his books were men

here while i lie beneath this walnut bough
what care i for the greeks or for troy town
if juster battles are enactеd now
between the ants upon this hummock’s crown?

bid homer wait till i thе issue learn
if red or black the gods will favor most
or yonder ajax will the phalanx turn
struggling to heave some rock against the host

tell shakespeare to attend some leisure hour
for now i’ve business with this drop of dew
and see you not, the clouds prepare a shower—
i’ll meet him shortly when the sky is blue

this bed of herd’s grass and wild oats was spread
last year with nicer sk!ll than monarchs use
a clover tuft is pillow for my head
and violets quite overtop my shoes
and now the cordial clouds have shut all in
and gently swells the wind to say all’s well;
the scattered drops are falling fast and thin
some in the pool, some in the flower_bell

i am well drenched upon my bed of oats;
but see that globe come rolling down its stem
now like a lonely planet there it floats
and now it sinks into my garment’s hem

drip drip the trees for all the country round
and richness rare distills from every bough;
the wind alone it is makes every sound
shaking down crystals on the leaves below

for shame the sun will never show himself
who could not with his beams e’er melt me so;
my dripping locks—they would become an elf
who in a beaded coat does gayly go

- richard mitchley

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