University of Virginia Library

It is the forest in the dead of night,
Moonlit and beautiful. The silence weighs
Oppressive on the mind; and fancies come
Unbidden, for the old and moss-grown trees
Take shapes most human, and they seem to watch
The lonely traveller, lest he should chance
To overhear the secrets which they pass
Unto each other. See, their leafy heads
Incline and touch, and then the whisper runs
From tree to tree.

A single rider goes
Across the forest through the night; and now
The road lies by interminable pools
Of sleeping water left by recent floods.
Far as the eye can see on either hand
Is moonlit water and the trunks of trees
Mossy and ancient; overhead the boughs.
The forest in its sleeping beauty seems
Implanted in a pure and moonlit lake,
Through which the horse and rider thread their way.
The trembling column which the moon projects
Upon the water, dances by their side,
Playing at hide-and-seek behind the trees.
Why starts the horse thus with a sudden fear,
And trembling, with distended nostrils, stands,
Rooted to earth? Why does the rider feel
A sudden thrill strike strangely through his frame?
Upon the water, there among the trees,
Now seen, now hidden, moves a female form,
Bathed in the moonlight, in a silvery dress,
Which mingles with the water as she glides,
And dies away in a long rippling wake.
No words she utters as she moves along:
But when she seems about to disappear
Behind the trees, she slowly turns and shows
Her deadly beauty to the traveller,
And beckons twice. And on the following morn
They find him lying in the road, beside
The stagnant pool; and near him stands his horse,
And wistful looks, and neighs as if for help.