Later Poems

by Bliss Carman


 

Dance of the Sunbeams


 

WHEN morning is high o’er the hilltops,
On river and stream and lake,
Wherever a young breeze whispers,
The sun-clad dancers wake.

One after one up-springing,

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They flash from their dim retreat.
Merry as running laughter
Is the news of their twinkling feet.

Over the floors of azure
Wherever the wind-flaws run,

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Sparkling, leaping, and racing,
Their antics scatter the sun.

As long as water ripples
And weather is clear and glad,
Day after day they are dancing,

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Never a moment sad.

But when through the field of heaven
The wings of storm take flight,
At a touch of the flying shadows
They falter and slip from sight.

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Until at the gray day’s ending,
As the squadrons of cloud retire,
They pass in the triumph of sunset
With banners of crimson fire.