 | The Poet and Nature and The Morning Road |  |
196
THE GRAY WOOD.
The gray wood stood,
Windy and whistling, with its winter dream;
Its leafy hood,
Tossed at its feet, shuffled into the stream.
Windy and whistling, with its winter dream;
Its leafy hood,
Tossed at its feet, shuffled into the stream.
Across its breast
Was drawn a band of crimson and of gold,
While in the west
The sunset's sullen fires, in rage, grew cold.
Was drawn a band of crimson and of gold,
While in the west
The sunset's sullen fires, in rage, grew cold.
It gave a cry,
Then tossed its arms and let its huge head sink,
As 'thwart the sky
The wild-geese drew their harrow, black as ink.
Then tossed its arms and let its huge head sink,
As 'thwart the sky
The wild-geese drew their harrow, black as ink.
Then up and down
It moved its shaggy shoulders, and was still;
Slipped on a gown
Of mist and sat there, dimly, on the hill.
It moved its shaggy shoulders, and was still;
Slipped on a gown
Of mist and sat there, dimly, on the hill.
Till, silver bright,
Out of the east there came a lamp of fire;
And in its light
It breathed again, and doffed its gray attire.
Out of the east there came a lamp of fire;
And in its light
It breathed again, and doffed its gray attire.
But all night long,
Wringing its hands, I heard it wail its love,
Weird, wild with wrong,
Unto the Moon that moved cold-eyed above.
Wringing its hands, I heard it wail its love,
Weird, wild with wrong,
Unto the Moon that moved cold-eyed above.
197
Then, nearing dawn,
I heard a dripping and looked forth to see—
The moon was gone,
And wood and sky were weeping wearily.
I heard a dripping and looked forth to see—
The moon was gone,
And wood and sky were weeping wearily.
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