Le Bosquet by Samuel Dean

Upon a gentle upland
Bordering on a sunlit bay
There lies a sylvan glade;
Its length o’ertopped
By waving branches
Of lofty trees
That offer cooling haven
To those who seek their shade.

When beams of summer sun
Pierce all the earth around –
Neath the open portal
Framed in arched leafage
A winding path invites our step.
On either side a border soft and green
Of ivy myrtle –
Yon marble leaf
Doth proffer rest.

Here let us bide
And sate our fancies
With all the freshness of the wood –
Close by a fountain brims
O’er which the water gently flows
Lending softest music
To sounds that nature utters
All the live-long day.

Sown through the vista of the dell
With footway through the bracken
Tis there that Spring
Doth come to dwell
And where blooms the daffodil.
Gold and white.
There too the radiant tulip
Sways with stately grace.
There Apollo, in pensive mood
Seems t listen
As if awaiting
The swift and witching entrance
Of graceful nymphs
Who come to dance
In dusky wood.

Quickly pass the moments Blithe
The birds have sung their even song,
The flowers have closed their eyes in sleep
Twilight falls
And in the Bosquet
All is still




Watercolor and poem by Samuel Dean, Bessie McKee’s friend and supplier of antiques for Blithewold.