Through the Rushes
Through the rushes by the river
Runs a drowsy tremor sweet,
And the waters stir and shiver
In the darkness at their feet;
From the sombre east up-stealing,
Gradual, with slow revealing,
Comes the dawn, and with a sigh,
Night goes by.
Here and there, to mildest wooing,
Folded buds are open blown;
And the drops their leaves bedewing,
Like to seed-pearls thickly sown,
Sinking, with the blessing olden,
Deep into each calyx golden,
A supreme behest obey,
Then melt away.
And while robes of splendor trailing,
Fitly deck the glowing morn,
And a fragrance, fresh exhaling,
Greets her loveliness new-born,
Midst divine melodic voicings,
Midst delicious mute rejoicings,
Strong as when the worlds began,
Awakens Pan!
poem by Florence Earle Coates from Poems (1898)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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