Saturday, June 17, 2023

June / William Cullen Bryant


June

I gazed upon the glorious sky
    And the green mountains round;
And thought that when I came to lie
    Within the silent ground,
Twere pleasant, that in flowery June,
When brooks send up a cheerful tune,
    And groves a joyous sound,
The sexton’s hand, my grave to make,
The rich, green mountain turf should break.

A cell within the frozen mould,
    A coffin borne through sleet,
And icy clods above it rolled,
    While fierce the tempests beat —
Away!— I will not think of these —
Blue be the sky and soft the breeze,
    Earth green beneath the feet,
And be the damp mould gently pressed
Into my narrow place of rest.


Bryant obelisk, Roslyn Cemetery,
 New York. Courtesy Find a Grave.
There through the long, long summer hours,
    The golden light should lie,
And thick young herbs and groups of flowers
    Stand in their beauty by.
The oriole should build and tell
His love-tale close beside my cell;
    The idle butterfly
Should rest him there, and there be heard
The housewife bee and humming-bird.

And what if cheerful shouts at noon
    Come, from the village sent,
Or songs of maids, beneath the moon
    With fairy laughter blent?
And what if, in the evening light,
Betrothèd lovers walk in sight
    Of my low monument?
I would the lovely scene around
Might know no sadder sight nor sound.

I know, I know I should not see
    The season’s glorious show,
Nor would its brightness shine for me,
    Nor its wild music flow;
But if, around my place of sleep,
The friends I love should come to weep,
    They might not haste to go.
Soft airs, and song, and light, and bloom,
Should keep them lingering by my tomb.

These to their softened hearts should bear
    The thought of what has been,
And speak of one who cannot share
    The gladness of the scene;
Whose part, in all the pomp that fills
The circuit of the summer hills,
    Is — that his grave is green;
And deeply would their hearts rejoice
To hear again his living voice.

~~
William Cullen Bryant (1794-1878)
from Poems, 1848

[Poem is in the public domain worldwide]

William Cullen Bryant biography

1 comment:

  1. A matter of fact poem about internment. The soul/spirit, I'd assume, of the reposed body, person contemplating his repose. In the first stanza he is thinking of a glorious repose: silent ground, flowery, mountains, brooks babling, rich natural surroundings. In the second stanza he refuses to think of the cold, ice and sleet, wishing for a comfortable burial repose. 3rd stanza what might be the scene above ground. 4th stanza he is wondering what if he could hear laughter & song from the village and lovers walking by. 5th stanza he notes that friends who visit his 'tomb' will hear the songs, sounds, sunshine and flowers and stay awhile and weep. 6th stanza, to think of him. They might comment how he would enjoy the scene, the glorious day. And comment that his grave is green and that they'd love to hear his voice again.

    6 stanzas, each 9 lines, 8/6/8/6/8/8/6/8/8 syllable count, rhyme scheme: ABABCCBDD EFEFGGFHH IAIAJJAKK CLCLMMLBB NONOPPOQQ RSRSTTSUU

    "What is a 8 6 syllable poem? Common meter has two key traits: it alternates between lines of eight syllables and lines of six syllables, and it always follows an iambic stress pattern in which each unstressed syllable is followed by one stressed syllable." Lit Charts

    Stressed syllable in glorious: GLO-ri-ous

    Stressed syllable in flowery: FLOW-er-y

    ob-e-lisk / Ros-lyn

    Stressed syllable in cemetery: CEM-e-TER-y

    Stressed syllable in lingering: LIN-ger-ing

    Correct me if I'm wrong George Dance. Thank you for sharing this interesting poem. An odd state of reference but 'tis something we might wonder about I'm sure. 💟💟💟💟💟💟

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