June At Woodruff.

Out at Woodruff Place - afar         From the city's glare and jar,         With the leafy trees, instead         Of the awnings, overhead;         With the shadows cool and sweet,         For the fever of the street;         With the silence, like a prayer,         Breathing round us everywhere.         Gracious anchorage, at last,         From the billows of the vast         Tide of life that comes and goes,         Whence and where nobody knows -         Moving, like a skeptic's thought,         Out of nowhere into naught.         Touch and tame us with thy grace,         Placid calm of Woodruff Place!         Weave a wreath of beechen leaves         For the brow that throbs and grieves         O'er the ledger, bloody-lined,         'Neath the sun-struck window-blind!         Send the breath of woodland bloom         Through the sick man's prison room,         Till his old farm-home shall swim         Sweet in mind to hearten him!         Out at Woodruff Place the Muse         Dips her sandal in the dews,         Sacredly as night and dawn         Baptize lilied grove and lawn:         Woody path, or paven way -         She doth haunt them night and day, -         Sun or moonlight through the trees,         To her eyes, are melodies.         Swinging lanterns, twinkling clear         Through night-scenes, are songs to her -         Tinted lilts and choiring hues,         Blent with children's glad halloos;         Then belated lays that fade         Into midnight's serenade -         Vine-like words and zithern-strings         Twined through ali her slumberings.         Blessd be each hearthstone set         Neighboring the violet!         Blessed every rooftree prayed         Over by the beech's shadel         Blessed doorway, opening where         We may look on Nature - there         Hand to hand and face to face -         Storied realm, or Woodruff Place.