Wild honey from various thyme By Michael Field [i.e. K. H. Bradley and E. E. Cooper] |
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WHITE WIND |
 | Wild honey from various thyme |  |
147
WHITE WIND
O soft, fleet-faring wind, there is a shore,Some pure, strong beach where thou dost find thy bed,
Far from this forest murmur round thy head,
From these bright-tinted plumes of hellebore:
The anemone flowers drop on thy head no more,
Nor autumn follows thee with clinging shred.
Thou art alone and the wide air is spread
Across thee as a coverlet: before
Thy couch and on beyond thee is the white
Of infinite farness, softer than a cloud...
And is it there that wingèd spirits shroud,
Hidden from thee, thou hunter of the light?
Ah, track them in their lair as in a gem;
Give me the clue; I needs must be with them!
| Wild honey from various thyme | |