SUNDAY UP THE RIVER:

AN IDYLL OF COCKAIGNE.

Dieu veuille garder les champs, les blés,
Et les jeunes filles à marier,

Et les jeunes garçons à les aimer:
En vérité, en vérité;

C'est le mois, le joli mois,

C'est le joli mois de mai.

Carol of Lorraine.

I.

I LOOKED out into the morning,
I looked out into the west :
The soft blue eye of the quiet sky
Still drooped in dreamy rest;

The trees were still like clouds there,
The clouds like mountains dim;
The broad mist lay, a silver bay
Whose tide was at the brim.

I looked out into the morning,
I looked out into the east:
The flood of light upon the night
Had silently increased;

The sky was pale with fervour,
The distant trees were grey,

The hill-lines drawn like waves of dawn
Dissolving in the day.

I looked out into the morning;

Looked east, looked west, with glee:

O richest day of happy May,

My Love will spend with me!

II.

'O what are you waiting for here, young man?
What are you looking for over the bridge?'

A little straw hat with the streaming blue ribbons
Is soon to come dancing over the bridge.

Her heart beats the measure that keeps her feet dancing,
Dancing along like a wave o' the sea;

Her heart pours the sunshine with which her eyes glancing
Light up strange faces in looking for me.

The strange faces brighten in meeting her glances;
The strangers all bless her, pure, lovely and free:
She fancies she walks, but her walk skips and dances,
Her heart makes such music in coming to me.

O thousands and thousands of happy young maidens
Are tripping this morning their sweethearts to see;

But none whose heart beats to a sweeter love-cadence
Than hers who will brighten the sunshine for me.
'O what are you waiting for here, young man ?
What are you looking for over the bridge?'
A little straw hat with the streaming blue ribbons;
-And here it comes dancing over the bridge!

III.

In the vast vague grey,
Mistily luminous, brightly dim,

The trees to the south there, far away,
Float as beautiful strange and grand
As pencilled palm-trees, every line
Mystic with a grace divine,

In our dreams of the holy Eastern Land.

There is not a cloud in the sky;

The vague vast grey
Melts into azure dim on high.

Warmth, and languor, and infinite peace!
Surely the young Day

Hath fallen into a vision and a trance,
And his burning flight doth cease.

Yet look how here and there

Soft curves, fine contours, seem to swim,
Half emerging, wan and dim,

Into the quiet air:

Like statues growing slowly, slowly out
From the great vault of marble; here a limb,
And there a feature, but the rest all doubt.

Then the sculpturing sunbeams smite,
And the forms start forth to the day;
And the breath of the morning sweepeth light
The luminous dust away:

And soon, soon, soon,

Crowning the floor of the land and the sea,
Shall be wrought the dome of Noon.

The burning sapphire dome,

With solemn imagery; vast shapes that stand

Each like an island ringed with flashing foam,

Black-purple mountains, creeks and rivers of light,

Crags of cleft crystal blazing to the crest:

Vast isles that move, that roam

A tideless sea of infinite fathomless rest.

Thus shall it be this noon :

And thus, so slowly slowly from its birth
In the long night's dark swoon,

Through the long morning's trance, sweet vague and dim,
The Sun divine above

Doth build up in us, Heaven completing Earth,

Our solemn Noon of Love.

IV.

The church bells are ringing:

How green the earth, how fresh and fair The thrushes are singing:

What rapture but to breathe this air!

The church bells are ringing:

O how the river dreameth there!

The thrushes are singing:

Green flames burn lightly everywhere!

The church bells are ringing:

How all the world breathes praise and prayer! The thrushes are singing:

What Sabbath peace doth trance the air!

I love all hardy exercise

V.

That makes one strain and quiver;

And best of all I love and prize

This boating on our river.

I to row and you to steer,

Gay shall be Life's trip, my dear:
You to steer and I to row,
All is bright where'er we go.

We push off from the bank; again
We're free upon the waters;
The happiest of the sons of men,
The fairest of earth's daughters.
And I row, and I row;

The blue floats above us as we go:

And you steer, and you steer,

Framed in gliding wood and water, O my dear.

I pull a long calm mile or two,

Pull slowly, deftly feather:

How sinful any work to do

In this Italian weather!
Yet I row, yet I row;

The blue floats above us as we go:

While you steer, while you steer,

Framed in gliding wood and water, O my dear.

Those lovely breadths of lawn that sweep

Adown in still green billows!

And o'er the brim in fountains leap;

Green fountains, weeping willows!

And I row, and I row;

The blue floats above us as we go:

And you steer, and you steer,

Framed in gliding wood and water, O my dear.

We push amongst the flags in flower,
Beneath the branches tender,

And we are in a faerie bower
Of green and golden splendour.
I to row and you to steer,
Gay must be Life's trip, my dear;
You to steer and I to row,

All is bright where'er we go.

A secret bower where we can hide
In lustrous shadow lonely;
The crystal floor may lap and glide
To rock our dreaming only.
I to row and you to steer,

Gay must be Life's trip, my dear;
You to steer and I to row,
All is bright where'er we go.

VI.

I love this hardy exercise,

This strenuous toil of boating:
Our skiff beneath the willow lies
Half stranded and half floating.
As I lie, as I lie,

Glimpses dazzle of the blue and burning sky;
As you lean, as you lean,

Faerie Princess of the secret faerie scene.

My shirt is of the soft red wool,

My cap is azure braided

By two white hands so beautiful,

My tie mauve purple-shaded.

As I lie, as I lie,

Glimpses dazzle of white clouds and sapphire sky;

As you lean, as you lean,

Faerie Princess of the secret faerie scene.

Your hat with long blue streamers decked,
Your pure throat crimson-banded;
White-robed, my own white dove unflecked,
Dove-footed, lilac-handed.

As I lie, as I lie,

Glimpses dazzle of white clouds and sapphire sky;

As you lean, as you lean,

Faerie Princess of the secret faerie scene.

If any boaters boating past

Should look where we're reclining,

They'll say, To-day green willows glassed

Rubies and sapphires shining!

As I lie, as I lie,

Glimpses dazzle of the blue and burning sky;

As you lean, as you lean,

Faerie Princess of the secret faerie scene.