Classic Poem

The plume-like poplar rises tall
Upon the faint-horizoned plain,
Where common, farm, and towered hall,
And purpled mass of woods, and chain
Of blue and silver waters, call
The white cloud from the neighbouring main.

The branches light an amber shower,
A veil of leaflets round them throw;
And in the soft and airy hour,
It waveth softly to and fro;
With not a tree or hawthorn bower
For miles of daisied turf below.

The morn its single shadow flings
Where pass the dog and shepherd boy;
And when the all-golden evening brings
Calm in the sky and silent joy,
Alone the warbler in it sings
The song of rest from all employ.