 | Along the trail |  |
AUGUST
The white sky and the white sea runTheir twin pearl-splendors into one,
Nor can the eye distinguish these,
Enchanted by the diableries
The mist-witch conjures in the sun.
Landward a white birch, like a nun,
Whispers her leafy rosaries.
Beyond, where the still woodland is,
The blue west leadens into dun,
Close to the dark tops of the trees.
1886
| Along the trail | |