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Robert Laurence Binyon - May Evening
Work rating: Low

So late the rustling shower was heard;
 Yet now the aëry west is still.
 The wet leaves flash, and lightly stirred
 Great drops out of the lilac spill.
 Peacefully blown, the ashen clouds
 Uncurtain height on height of sky.
 Here, as I wander, beauty crowds
 In freshness keen upon my eye.

 Now the shorn turf a glowing green
 Takes in the massy cedar shade;
 And through the poplar`s trembling screen
 Fires of the evening blush and fade.
 Each way my marvelling senses feel
 Swift odour, light, and luminous hue
 Of leaf and flower upon them steal:
 The songs of birds pierce my heart through.

 The tulip clear, like yellow flame,
 Burns upward from the gloomy mould:
 As though for passion forth they came,
 Red hearts of peonies unfold:
 And perfumes tender, sweet, intense
 Enter me, delicate as a blade.
 The lilac odour wounds my sense,
 Of the rich rose I am afraid.
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