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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392020" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>July Fugitive</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Can you tell me where has hid her<br>Pretty Maid July?<br>I would swear one day ago<br>She passed by,<br>I would swear that I do know<br>The blue bliss of her eye:<br>'Tarry, maid, maid,' I bid her;<br>But she hastened by.<br>Do you know where she has hid her,<br>Maid July?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet in truth it needs must be<br>The flight of her is old;<br>Yet in truth it needs must be,<br>For her nest, the earth, is cold.<br>No more in the pool-ed Even<br>Wade her rosy feet,<br>Dawn-flakes no more plash from them<br>To poppies 'mid the wheat.<br>She has muddied the day's oozes<br>With her petulant feet;<br>Scared the clouds that floated,<br>As sea-birds they were,<br>Slow on the coerule<br>Lulls of the air,<br>Lulled on the luminous<br>Levels of air:<br>She has chidden in a pet<br>All her stars from her;<br>Now they wander loose and sigh<br>Through the turbid blue,<br>Now they wander, weep, and cry--<br>Yea, and I too--<br>'Where are you, sweet July,<br>Where are you?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Who hath beheld her footprints,<br>Or the pathway she goes?<br>Tell me, wind, tell me, wheat,<br>Which of you knows?<br>Sleeps she swathed in the flushed Arctic<br>Night of the rose?<br>Or lie her limbs like Alp-glow<br>On the lily's snows?<br>Gales, that are all-visitant,<br>Find the runaway;<br>And for him who findeth her<br>(I do charge you say)<br>I will throw largesse of broom<br>Of this summer's mintage,<br>I will broach a honey-bag<br>Of the bee's best vintage.<br>Breezes, wheat, flowers sweet,<br>None of them knows!<br>How then shall we lure her back<br>From the way she goes?<br>For it were a shameful thing,<br>Saw we not this comer<br>Ere Autumn camp upon the fields<br>Red with rout of Summer.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the bird quits the cage,<br>We set the cage outside,<br>With seed and with water,<br>And the door wide,<br>Haply we may win it so<br>Back to abide.<br>Hang her cage of earth out<br>O'er Heaven's sunward wall,<br>Its four gates open, winds in watch<br>By rein-ed cars at all;<br>Relume in hanging hedgerows<br>The rain-quenched blossom,<br>And roses sob their tears out<br>On the gale's warm heaving bosom;<br>Shake the lilies till their scent<br>Over-drip their rims;<br>That our runaway may see<br>We do know her whims:<br>Sleek the tumbled waters out<br>For her travelled limbs;<br>Strew and smoothe blue night thereon,<br>There will--O not doubt her!--<br>The lovely sleepy lady lie,<br>With all her stars about her!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+Thompson">Francis Thompson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392020" data-title="July Fugitive de Francis Thompson" data-description="Can you tell me where has hid her
Pretty Maid July?
I would swear one day ago
She passed by,
I would swear that I do know
The blue bliss of her eye:
'Tarry, maid, maid,' I bid her;
But she hastened by.
Do you know where she has hid her,
Maid July?..."></div>
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