 | The poet, the fool and the faeries |  |
115
THE WOOD STREAM
As night drew on, around the quiet stream
The wildflower heads leaned closer, and the trees
Muttered a little, as if half in dream;
And through the wood, trailing sweet robes, a breeze,—
Like some dim elfin gathering perfume,—
Faltered a moment ere it sank in gloom.
The wildflower heads leaned closer, and the trees
Muttered a little, as if half in dream;
And through the wood, trailing sweet robes, a breeze,—
Like some dim elfin gathering perfume,—
Faltered a moment ere it sank in gloom.
Then all was still—except that one small stone
Protested, whimpering, in the water's way;
Petulant, resistant, where the cascade shone,
Wrapping its tumult in a gown of spray,
Like some pale mother who would put to rest
Her child, a starbeam brooching her bright breast.
Protested, whimpering, in the water's way;
Petulant, resistant, where the cascade shone,
Wrapping its tumult in a gown of spray,
Like some pale mother who would put to rest
Her child, a starbeam brooching her bright breast.
More careful of the nest upon its arm,
That hugged the wild-bird, seemed each bush and tree:
And in its heart, securing it from harm,
Each wildflower seemed to clasp more close its bee:
And even Earth with more protection seemed
To hide the things that in her bosom dreamed.
That hugged the wild-bird, seemed each bush and tree:
And in its heart, securing it from harm,
Each wildflower seemed to clasp more close its bee:
And even Earth with more protection seemed
To hide the things that in her bosom dreamed.
116
Save for the stream, to which the hush gave heed,
And little winds that sighed and, whispering, rose,
And donned their rustling robes with infant speed,
Tiptoe, regardful of the wood's repose,
The night was still.—And then, as if aware
That all was ready, radiance filled the air.
And little winds that sighed and, whispering, rose,
And donned their rustling robes with infant speed,
Tiptoe, regardful of the wood's repose,
The night was still.—And then, as if aware
That all was ready, radiance filled the air.
Godiva-like, the moon rode into sight,
Cautions, yet confident that no one sees;
The naked moon, astonishing the night,
Brightening the thoroughfares of all the trees:
Holding her course unfaltering and sure,
Knowing herself as beautiful as pure.
Cautions, yet confident that no one sees;
The naked moon, astonishing the night,
Brightening the thoroughfares of all the trees:
Holding her course unfaltering and sure,
Knowing herself as beautiful as pure.
| The poet, the fool and the faeries | |