Impressions 



Here, with the singing bird and in the shade 

 Where yet the violet retains its youth, 

 Where moss, I fancy, for my limbs, was laid, 

 Here sings to me the ever-welcome truth, 



" No thought of haste as pass the hours by — 

 Life a long day-dream, now, in mid-July." 



'Twas but a weary cat-bird sought its ease. 

 In quest of comfort all too seldom found; 

 Lulled by the murmur of the passing breeze, 

 Sought the cool, leafy shade above the ground 

 And cast a glance of pity from on high 

 Upon the toiling world of mid-July. 



Then a brief message, slowly reaching earth, 

 Few whispered words, yet freighted well with cheer, - 

 " 'Twas not ill-fortune frowned upon thy birth, 

 Since thou hast wit enough to seek me here; 



For greater blessing do not hope to try; 



Cool and content; what more, in mid- July?" 



Poet 

 " Is that a worthy thought for man or bird? " 



Cat-bird 

 " The only thought, my friend, I ever heard." 



Poet 

 "No higher aim throughout this life for thee? 

 Come, honest cat-bird, tell the truth to me." 

 91 



