The present is a favorable
specimen of the poetry of the secession writers.]
* * * * *
=_John Hay._=[104]
From "Pike County Ballads."
=_431._= THE PRAIRIE.
The skies are blue above my head,
The prairie green below,
And flickering o'er the tufted grass
The shifting shadows go,
Vague-sailing, where the feathery clouds
Fleck white the tranquil skies,
Black javelins darting where aloft
The whirring pheasant flies.
A glimmering plain in drowsy trance
The dim horizon bounds,
Where all the air is resonant
With sleepy summer sounds,--
The life that sings among the flowers,
The lisping of the breeze,
The hot cicada's sultry cry,
The murmurous dream of bees.
The butterfly--a flying flower--
Wheels swift in flashing rings,
And flutters round his quiet kin
With brave flame-mottled wings.
The wild Pinks burst in crimson fire,
The Phlox' bright clusters shine,
And Prairie-cups are swinging free
To spill their airy wine.
* * * * *
Far in the East, like low-hung clouds
The waving woodlands lie;
Far in the West, the glowing plain
Melts warmly in the sky;
No accent wounds the reverent air,
No foot-print dints the sod,--
Lone in the light the prairie lies,
Rapt in a dream of God.
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