EPILOGUE 155 



20 All the heaped Autumn's wealth. 



With a still, mysterious stealth : 

 She will mix these pleasures up 

 Like three fit wines in a cup, 

 And thou shalt quaff it ! 



Thou shalt hear 

 Distant harvest-carols clear; 

 Rustle of the reaped corn; 

 Sweet birds antheming the morn: 

 And, in the same moment hark ! 

 'Tis the early April lark, 

 30 Or the rooks, with busy caw, 



Foraging for sticks and straw. 



Thou shalt, at one glance, behold 

 The daisy and the marigold; 

 White-plumed lilies and the first 

 Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst ; 

 Shaded hyacinth alway 

 Sapphire queen of the mid-May 

 And every leaf, and every flower 

 Pearled with the selfsame shower. 



40 Thou shalt see the field-mouse peep 



Meagre from its celled sleep; 

 And the snake, all winter-thin, 

 Cast on sunny bank its skin; 

 Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see 

 Hatching in the hawthorn -tree, 

 When the hen-bird's wing doth rest 

 Quiet on her mossy nest; 



