  Through sunny spaces overhead A gray hawk’s lazy pinions spread, And poppies open wide and red Where golden harvests grew. In rosy wreaths upon the swales And fallow fields the bindweed trails, And late-sown buckwheat swiftly pales To blossoming anew. The pond within the pasture land Reflects the cattle as they stand In depths of dipping sedges and Of tangled meadow-rue. In silver splashes through the green, Fine, filmy spider-webs are seen, And crumpled cockle-flowers between Are rifts of tender blue. On stately stalks of standing corn A wealth of cresting plumes are borne, And tawny tasseled tufts adorn The ripened barley, too. So, steeping nature far and wide, Deep sweeps the flood of summer-tide, Till all things that therein abide Are richly tinctured through.
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