When Lydia Smiles

When Lydia smiles, I seem to see
The walls around me fade and flee;
And, lo, in haunts of hart and hind
I seem with lovely Rosalind,
In Arden 'neath the greenwood tree:
The day is drowsy with the bee,
And one wild bird flutes dreamily,
And all the mellow air is kind,
When Lydia smiles.

Ah, me! what were this world to me
Without her smile!--What poetry,
What glad hesperian paths I find
Of love, that lead my soul and mind
To happy hills of Arcady,
When Lydia smiles!

Madison Julius Cawein

Madison Julius Cawein was born on March 23, 1865, in Louisville, Kentucky and died on December 8, 1914. Known as the “Keats of Kentucky,” his poetry often focused on nature, mythology, and the lush landscapes of his home state. Throughout his lifetime, Cawein published more than 30 books of poetry. He is remembered for his vivid and descriptive style and his ability to capture the beauty of the natural world. His works provide a window into the pastoral and often mystical world of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

Madison Julius Cawein

A Ballad Of Sweethearts

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

The Wind In The Pines

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

Clairvoyance

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

Waiting.

Madison Julius Cawein, Simple Poetry

English

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Lydia.

When Autumn's here and days are short,
Let LYDIA laugh and, hey!
Straightway 't is May-day in my heart,
And blossoms strew the way.

When Summer's here and days are long,
Let LYDIA sigh and, ho!
December's fields I walk among,
And shiver in the snow.

No matter what the Seasons are,
My LYDIA is so dear,
My soul admits no Calendar
Of earth when she is near.

Madison Julius Cawein

Hilda Of The Hillside

I.

Who is she, like the spring, who comes down
From the hills to the smoke-huddled town?
With her peach-petal face
And her wildflower grace,
Bringing sunshine and gladness to each sorry place?
Her cheeks are twin buds o' the brier,
Mixed fervors of snow and of fire;
Her lips are the red
Of a rose that is wed
To dew and aroma when dawn is o'erhead:
Her eyes are twin bits o' the skies,
Blue glimpses of Paradise;
The strands of her hair
Are sunlight and air
Herself is the argument that she is fair,
This girl with the dawn in her eyes.

II.

If Herrick had looked on her face
His lyrics had learned a new grace:
Her face is a book
Where each laugh and each look,
Each smile is a lyric, more sweet than a brook:
Her wo...

Madison Julius Cawein

TO ---- .

    "Lydia, dic, per omnes
Te deos oro!"


I

What are the subtleties
Which woo me in her eyes
To oaths she deems but lies,
I can not tell, I can not tell,
    Nor will she.
They are beyond my thought.
For when I gaze I'm nought,
My senses all unwrought,
It is not well, it is not well,
    Now Lily!


II

What is the magic sweet
Which makes hot pulses beat,
A wayward tongue repeat
A name for weeks, a name for weeks
    Will, nill he?
Ai me! the pleasant pain
Falls sweetly on the brain
Like some slow sunny rain,
Whene'er she speaks, whene'er she speaks
    This Lily.


III

What is the witchery rare
Which snares me in her hair
So deeply that I dare,
I ...

Madison Julius Cawein

Rosemary
Above her, pearl and rose the heavens lay;
Around her, flowers scattered earth with gold,
Or down the path in insolence held sway--
Like cavaliers who ride the elves' highway--
Scarlet and blue, within a garden old.

Beyond the hills, faint-heard through belts of wood,
Bells, Sabbath-sweet, swooned from some far-off town;
Gamboge and gold, broad sunset colors strewed
The purple west as if, with God imbued,
Her mighty pallet Nature there laid down.

Amid such flowers, underneath such skies,
Embodying all life knows of sweet and fair,
She stood; love's dreams in girlhood's face and eyes,
White as a star that comes to emphasize
The mingled beauty of the earth and air.

Behind her, seen through vines and orchard trees,
Gray with its twinkling window...
Madison Julius Cawein

O Maytime Woods!
From the idyll "Wild Thorn and Lily"

O Maytime woods! O Maytime lanes and hours!
And stars, that knew how often there at night
Beside the path, where woodbine odors blew
Between the drowsy eyelids of the dusk, -
When, like a great, white, pearly moth, the moon
Hung silvering long windows of your room, -
I stood among the shrubs! The dark house slept.
I watched and waited for - I know not what! -
Some tremor of your gown: a velvet leaf's
Unfolding to caresses of the Spring:
The rustle of your footsteps: or the dew
Syllabling avowal on a tulip's lips
Of odorous scarlet: or the whispered word
Of something lovelier than new leaf or rose -
The word young lips half murmur in a dream:

Serene with sleep, light visions weigh her eyes:
And underneath he...
Madison Julius Cawein

O Maytime Woods!
From the idyll "Wild Thorn and Lily"

O Maytime woods! O Maytime lanes and hours!
And stars, that knew how often there at night
Beside the path, where woodbine odors blew
Between the drowsy eyelids of the dusk,
When, like a great, white, pearly moth, the moon
Hung silvering long windows of your room,
I stood among the shrubs! The dark house slept.
I watched and waited for I know not what!
Some tremor of your gown: a velvet leaf's
Unfolding to caresses of the Spring:
The rustle of your footsteps: or the dew
Syllabling avowal on a tulip's lips
Of odorous scarlet: or the whispered word
Of something lovelier than new leaf or rose
The word young lips half murmur in a dream:
Serene with sleep, light visions weigh her eyes:
And underneath her window b...
Madison Julius Cawein