Classic Poem

On a clear glad April morn
Youth, a boy-babe, took his seat
On an ancient dial worn
With the Sun-God's fiery feet.
Crownwise on his brows were set
Primrose, maybloom, violet,
And the coming summer skies
Glowed in locks and cheeks and eyes.
On the shadow-haunted dial
Forth he drew his airy viol,
Stroked its strings, unlocked its heart
Lifewards, and thro' each quick part
Strange sweet sounds began to creep,
Softer than the soul of sleep,
Till the dial's journeying shade
Smote his thigh, — like one afraid,
Up he leaped, nor more he played,
But with frowns of dark denial
Down he dropt from off the dial,
Quenched his song, and quelled his viol,
And, for all that I might say,
Shadow-struck, fled fast away;
While I cried, " Ah! welladay!
Stay, oh, stay. "