Home  »  A Library of American Literature  »  Under the Blue

Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889

Under the Blue

By Francis Fisher Browne (1843–1913)

[Born in South Halifax, Vt., 1843. Died in Santa Barbara, Cal., 1913.]

THE SKIES are low, the winds are slow, the woods are filled with Autumn glory;

The mists are still, on field and hill; the brooklet sings its dreamy story.

I careless rove through glen and grove; I dream by hill, and copse, and river;

Or in the shade by aspen made I watch the restless shadows quiver.

I lift my eyes to azure skies that shed their tinted glory o’er me;

While memories sweet around me fleet, as radiant as the scene before me.

For while I muse upon the hues of Autumn skies in splendor given,

Sweet thoughts arise of rare deep eyes whose blue is like the blue of heaven.

Bend low, fair skies! Smile sweet, fair eyes! from radiant skies rich hues are streaming;

But in the blue of pure eyes true the radiance of my life is beaming.

O skies of blue! ye fade from view; faint grow the hues that o’er me quiver;

But the sure light of sweet eyes bright shines on forever and forever.