Poems (May)/Early walks

by Edith May

EARLY WALKS.

Who talks of the pleasure of treading the fields,
 When morning is fresh in the skies?
Be sure that he walked with poetical feet
 And saw with poetical eyes.
   Be sure that all people who rave
    Of the beauty of day at its break,
   Of the dawn that comes radiant in purple and gold
    Are the last to arise for its sake.

'Tis charming to wake with the blush of the morn,
 'Tis charming, so poets may sing,
To wander when day o'er the diamond-dropped earth
 Just flutters her delicate wing;
   I'll give you a piece of advice;
    When the dawning is mantling the star,
   You'll find that to quietly look from your couch,
    Through a window, is better by far.

The breath of the morning brings shivers and chills.
 The fields are bespattered with dew,
And the drop that's so bright in the violet's eye,
 Can be vastly unpleasant to you.
   And if you're a lady, alas!
    Your drapery's much in the way,
   And a terrible foe to the graces you'll find
    In the beautiful herald of day.

I'll give you the proper receipt for a walk:—
 Dont stir from your pillow till nine,
Then quietly take, your hot coffee and rolls,
 And give the sun leisure to shine.
   When the dew is quite off of the grass,
    And the woods are just pleasantly warm,
   With a book in your hand, or a pencil, perhaps,
    You'll own my receipt is a charm.