Ah, August, month of my birth. I've always found it too hot and too humid – rarely more so than this year. In "The Passing of Père La Brosse," Agnes Maule Machar notes:
...August nights are coolIn these north regions. Summer goes so soon!
I shouldn't complain.
"The Passing of Père La Brosse" is one of the longer poems in Miss Machar's Lays of the 'True North' and Other Canadian Poems (Toronto: Copp, Clark, 1899). "An August Morning," more typical in length, was read Saturday morning during a visit to Agnes Maule Machar Park in Gananoque, Ontario.
AN AUGUST MORNING
In gleam of pale translucent amber wokeThe perfect August day;Through rose-flushed bars of pearl and amber brokeThe sunset's golden way.
The river seemed transfigured in its flowTo tide of amethyst,Save where it rippled o'er the sands below,And granite boulders kissed.
The clouds of billowy woodland hung unstirredIn languorous slumber deep,While, from its green recesses, one small birdPiped to its brood asleep.
The clustering lichens wore a tenderer tint,The rocks a warmer glow;The emerald dewdrops, in the sunbeam's glint,Gemmed the rich moss below.
Our birchen shallop idly stranded layHalf mirrored in the stream,Wild roses drooped, glassed in the tiny bay,Ethereal as a dream!
You sat upon your rock, enthroned a queen,As on a granite throne,And all that world of loveliness sereneHeld but us twain alone.
Nay! but we felt another presence there,Around, below, above;
It breathed a poem through the fragrant air
Its name was LOVE!
Related posts:
The Dustiest Bookcase: M is for Machar
Agnes Maule Machar's New Year's Wish (& mine)
'Easter Lilies' by Agnes Maule Machar
Atypical Easter Verse by Agnes Maule Machar
Agnes Maule Machar's New Year's Wish (& mine)
'Easter Lilies' by Agnes Maule Machar
Atypical Easter Verse by Agnes Maule Machar
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