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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
176
OCCULT
Unto the soul's companionship
Of things that only seem to be,
Earth points with magic finger-tip
And bids thee see
How Fancy keeps thee company.
Of things that only seem to be,
Earth points with magic finger-tip
And bids thee see
How Fancy keeps thee company.
For oft at dawn hast not beheld
A spirit of prismatic hue
Blow wide the buds, which night hath swelled?
And stain them through
With heav'n's ethereal gold and blue?
A spirit of prismatic hue
Blow wide the buds, which night hath swelled?
And stain them through
With heav'n's ethereal gold and blue?
While at her side another went
With gleams of enigmatic white?
A spirit who distributes scent,
To vale and height,
In footsteps of the rosy light?
With gleams of enigmatic white?
A spirit who distributes scent,
To vale and height,
In footsteps of the rosy light?
And oft at dusk hast thou not seen
The star-fays bring their caravans
Of dew, and glitter all the green,
Night's shadow tans,
With drops the rain-hung cobweb spans?
The star-fays bring their caravans
177
Night's shadow tans,
With drops the rain-hung cobweb spans?
Nor watched with these the elfins go
Who tune faint instruments—that sound
Like that moon-music insects blow?—
Then haunted ground
Thou hast not trodden, never found!
Who tune faint instruments—that sound
Like that moon-music insects blow?—
Then haunted ground
Thou hast not trodden, never found!
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |