 | The Poet and Nature and The Morning Road |  |
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THE MAY MOON.
Dusk lifts high an opal-tinted
Chalice brimmed with pearly wine;
And upon a salver, minted
Of the sunset, lets it shine
Deep within a golden shrine,
Showing there a moony line.
Chalice brimmed with pearly wine;
And upon a salver, minted
Of the sunset, lets it shine
Deep within a golden shrine,
Showing there a moony line.
In its light, on owlet pinions,
Witchcraft takes her drowsy flight;
And Enchantment with her minions
Of the dew and glowworm-light,
Leads her pageant through the night
Over every vale and height.
Witchcraft takes her drowsy flight;
And Enchantment with her minions
Of the dew and glowworm-light,
Leads her pageant through the night
Over every vale and height.
In her train, as by it dances,
Lo, again a Dream I knew
In my youth, before me glances
Dimly in the moon and dew,
Dancing back, O Heart, to you,
Elfin-like, through rose and rue.
Lo, again a Dream I knew
In my youth, before me glances
Dimly in the moon and dew,
Dancing back, O Heart, to you,
Elfin-like, through rose and rue.
| The Poet and Nature and The Morning Road | |