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INTERPRETED |
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 | The poems of Madison Cawein |  |
110
INTERPRETED
What magic shall solve us the secret
Of beauty that 's born for an hour?
That gleams, in the flight of an egret,
Or swoons, in the scent of a flower,
With death for a dower?
Of beauty that 's born for an hour?
That gleams, in the flight of an egret,
Or swoons, in the scent of a flower,
With death for a dower?
What leaps in the bosk but a satyr?
What pipes in the wind but a faun?
What blooms in the waters that scatter
But limbs of a nymph that is gone,
When we walk in the dawn?
What pipes in the wind but a faun?
What blooms in the waters that scatter
But limbs of a nymph that is gone,
When we walk in the dawn?
What sings on the hills but a fairy?
Or sighs in the fields but a sprite?
What breathes through the leaves but the airy
Dim spirits of shadow and light,
When we walk in the night?
Or sighs in the fields but a sprite?
What breathes through the leaves but the airy
Dim spirits of shadow and light,
When we walk in the night?
Behold how the world-heart is eager
To draw us and hold us and claim!
Through truths of the dreams that beleaguer
Her soul she makes ours the same,
And death but a name.
To draw us and hold us and claim!
Through truths of the dreams that beleaguer
Her soul she makes ours the same,
And death but a name.
| The poems of Madison Cawein | |