Madison Cawein - Going for the Cows lyrics

I. The juice-big apples' sullen gold, Like lazy Sultans laughed and lolled 'Mid heavy mats of leaves that lay Green-flatten'd 'gainst the glaring day; And here a pear of rusty brown, And peaches on whose brows the down Waxed furry as the ears of Pan, And, like Diana's cheeks, whose tan Burnt tender secresies of fire, Or wan as Psyche's with desire Of lips that love to kiss or taste Voluptuous ripeness there sweet placed. And down the orchard vistas he,— Barefooted, trousers out at knee, Face shadowing from the sloping sun A hat of straw, brim-sagging broad,— Came, lowly whistling some vague tune, Upon the sunbeam-sprinkled road. Lank in his hand a twig with which In boyish thoughtlessness he crushed Rare pennyroyal myriads rich In pungent souls that warmly gushed. Before him whirled in rattling fear The saffron-bellied gra**hopper; And ringing from the musky dells Came faint the cows' melodious bells, Where whimp'ring like a fretful hound The fountain bubbled up in sound. II. Yellow as sunset skies and pale As fairy clouds that stay or sail Thro' azure vaults of summer, blue As summer heavens the violets grew; And mosses on which spurts of light Fell laughing, like the lips one might Feign for a Hebe or a girl Whose mouth heat-lightens up with pearl; Limp ferns in murmuring shadows shrunk And silent as if stunned or drunk With moist aromas of the wood; Dry rustlings of the quietude; On silver fronds' thin tresses new Cold limpid blisters of the dew. Across the rambling fence she leaned: A gingham gown to ankles bare; Her artless beauty, bonnet-screened, Tempestuous with its stormy hair. A rain-crow gurgled in a vine,— She heard it not—a step she hears; The wild rose smelt like delicate wine,— She knew it not—'tis he that nears. With smiles of greeting all her face Grew musical; with rustic grace He leant beside her, and they had Some parley, with light laughter glad; I know not what; I know but this, Its final period was a kiss.