THE GRAY MAGICIAN edit
I WAS living very merrily on Middle Earth
As merry as a maid may be
Till the Gray Magician came down along the road
And flung his cobweb cloak on me:
His cobweb cloak of gray brushed my eyes and my ears
And all the curtained air was thinned,
And I came to the sight of the quiet Other People
Who live in the water and the wind:
And I cannot go abroad to gather up the faggots,
Singing to the honest air
Because of the fingers of the brown wood-women
Catching at my blowing hair:
And I cannot sit at home and be quiet at my spinning,
Singing to the thread I spin,
Because of the crying of the green sea-women
Beneath my sill to be let in:
And I wish the Gray Magician had been swung to an oak
Or drowned in the deep green sea
Before he brushed my face with his cobweb cloak
And stole the Middle Earth from me!
THE DANCERS edit
(For Edwin Arlington Robinson)
OURS was a quiet town, a still town, a sober town,
Softly curled the yellow roads that slept in the sun,
Staid came the day up and staid came the night down
And staidly went we sleepwise when the day's work was done!
Oh, they came dancing down, the gay ones, the bonny ones,
We had never seen the like, sweet and wild and glad,
Down the long roads they came, fluting and dancing,
Flowers in each lass's hair and plumes on each lad!
Sweet were their clinging hands, kind were their voices,
"Dance with us, laugh with us, good grave folk," said they,
"Swift we must go from you, time's long for toiling,
Come and make joy with us the brief while we stay!"
Oh, then was a gay time, a wild time, a glad time,
Hand in hand we danced with them beneath sun and moon,
Flowers were for garlanding and greens were for dancing–
This was the wisdom we learned of them too soon!
Swift went the day past, a glad day, a wild day,
Swift went the night past, a night wild and glad,
Down fell their arms from us, loosening, fleeting,
Far down the roads they danced, wild lass and wild lad!
Far fled their dancing feet, far rang their laughter,
Far gleamed their mocking eyes beneath the garlands gay,
All too late we knew them then, the wild eyes, the elf-eyes,
Wood-folk and faun-folk that danced our hearts away!
* * * * * *
Ours is a still town, a sad town, a sober town,
Still lie the dun roads all empty in the sun,
Sad comes the day up and sad falls the night down,
And sadly go we sleepwise when the day's watch is done!
THE GYPSY STAR edit
THERE were seven shining stars that swung above my cradle
(She never was kind to me, Diana our Lady the Moon!)
And one was rosy-pale, and one was scarlet-golden,
And one was a little shadowed star that only could vanish soon!
Oh, Mars was scarlet-wild and Venus was veiled in shadow
(She called to the clouds to come, Diana our Lady of Snow!)
But all of the stars that rose and helped me where I must wander
They never could hold the Gypsy Star to the roads where my feet must go!
Oh, one was a star of crowns and one was a star of dreaming
And one was a star of mockery and one was a help from pain,
And ever the Sun was kind and shone for my idle singing,
But ah, my wandering Gypsy Star I never shall find again!
Oh, Mars may burn to dusk and Venus may rise from shadow
And even the Moon that hated me forget as she lifts the tide,
Yet what if they gleam or fade, and what if they stay or wander? . . .
Alas, my wandering Gypsy Star that faded and flamed and died!
THE FAUN'S SWEETHEART edit
WE met by the Wood of Doom,
Day gone and the dusk come after . . .
And I thought you were one like the lads anear,
Only more glad and fair,
Till I heard you laugh in the gloom
And I knew a faun's wild laughter–
But oh, it was all too late to fear
The little horns in your hair!
Far back leaped the woodlights' glow,
And you fled– and I might not follow,
And I loosed the hold of your hurrying hand
At the piercing wood-flutes' call;
For my human feet fell slow,
Flagging at hill and hollow,
Till far rang back from the leaping band
The click of your light footfall.
* * * * * *
The days pass long and still
Where I sit still at my spinning . . .
But I wish the sounds of the talking stream
Would hush, and I might not know
Over the forest-hill
The sounds of the night's beginning,
Nor see the flit of the hurrying gleam
Where the lightfoot woodfolk go!
For I cannot have hope in heaven
To quiet my heartache after,
Because you were only a faun o' the wood
With never a soul at all.
And never the hills of heaven
May echo a faun's wild laughter
Nor over the harpstrings' holy flood
Sound ringing your light footfall!
DREAM-HOUSE edit
(For Anna Hempstead Branch)
I WENT to the house of the Lady of Dreams
For a dream to carry away
That should ferry me over the blackest streams
I had to cross by day;
For comforting dreams from her small white hands
Rise up like butterflies,
And dreams like the lakes in old fairylands
Lie back of her shining eyes,
And gold-riddled dreams like tapestries
Cling painted along her walls
And yellow bird-dreams from shadow-trees
Come fluttering when she calls;
And all of the day-dark when she spoke
Was shattered and rainbow-hung,
And she gave me a dream like a scarlet cloak
And a dream like a wreath rose-strung . . .
But I went from the house of the Lady of Dreams
And my packet of dreams blew wide,
And only a red-rose cloud in streams
Swung torn in the west outside!
GARDEN DREAM edit
THEY cried before my gate at morning-mirth,
"Come out and help us burn the weeds from earth!"
But I was planting out my garden-close
With wands of lily and with slips of rose,
And their scented wavings made the air so sweet
That I could not listen to the trampling feet . . .
(Yet there blew a perfume from the garden-bed
That changed the evil weeds to white and red!)
They called before my gate at noontide-breath,
"Come out and help us check the dance of death!"
But I was dancing in a woodland ring
With brown wood-women for my partnering,
And fauns that fluted till the green glades rang,
And all I heard was what the wood-birds sang. . . .
(Yet there came a music from the wood-folk's flute
That made the drums of evil kind and mute!)
They cried before my gate at sweet of night,
"Come out and help us scourge the black world white!"
But I was weaving me a golden gown
All strung with silver lilies up and down
With moon-white laces that should foam and fall,
And I could not hear their lashing words at all . . .
(Yet there streamed a light from out the golden gown
That cleansed the blackness of each evil town!)
And every poor man had a garden-close
With wands of lilies and with slips of rose,
And every poor child danced the woodlands through
And sang and fluted merry songs he knew,
And every woman had a golden gown
Gay-strung with silver ribbons up and down,
And we all went singing how the world is fair
And warm the summer light and sweet the air!
SWAN-CHILD edit
(For Aline)
MY feet have touched the Dancing Water,
My lips have kissed the Singing Rose
And I was born a swan-girl's daughter . . .
Oh, I would stay with you, my lover,
But in my heart a sea wind blows
And in the dark the wild swans hover . . .
Tonight as I went down to sea
To cast my net, to draw my net,
The Marsh-King's daughter whispered me,
"Sister," she called, "do you forget?"
For though I am a fisher's child
It was a swan-maid mothered me,
And I have wings that I can don
When day is done, when dark comes on,
To bear me high across the sea.
One star-dusk when I waited you
And it was long before you came,
There was a bird with wings of blue
And claws of gold and crest of flame
Who sang with words as mortals do:
He sang me of an ivory fountain
Within a wood beyond a mountain
Where lies beneath the water's flow
A golden key, a silver cup,
Until my hand shall lift them up . . .
(Oh, I must go from you, my lover!)
For they were mine once long ago.
How shall you keep me, dear my lover?
My heart is yours till night-winds call,
And then dear earth-things fade and fall
(Oh, I was born a swan-girl's daughter!)
For I have found beneath the moon
Brown fairy fernseed for my shoon
That carries me where no man knows,
Beyond the sands, beyond the clover . . .
I cannot bide with you, my lover . . .
My feet have touched the Dancing Water,
My lips have kissed the Singing Rose.
CHANGELING edit
THOUGH she has a name you bore,
Elfin-Heart we loved before,
You are lost to us, you child,
Little life-flame burning wild!
Though her hair– how like!– is tossed
Like your yellow head that's lost,
And her blue eyes seem to smile
Like yours lost this weary while,
This dim woman lifelessly
Playing you– you are not she!
You that were a wisp, a spark,
Small wild sunray, Gleam-in-Dark,
Never you, wild heart awing,
This that is a changeling!
Elfin-Heart, too like you were–
Mocking eyes and tossing hair–
Cruel laughter, changeful ways–
To your kin the wandering fays,
To have passed their hidden ring,
Safe, uncaught, unfollowing!
Somewhere in a green hill's heart
Elfin-tall you laugh apart
Where forever cold and gay
Do the Strange Folk's pipers play . . .
And while this that bears your seeming
Goes among us dumb and dreaming
You dance on eternally
With the Dark Queen's chivalry!
SONGS FROM A MASQUE edit
THE WOODFOLK SWEEP THROUGH edit
The Water-Spirit:
Water flows in the wild wood deep,
Dreamy water that slips and sighs,
I shall whisper your heart to sleep,
Flowing down on your lips and eyes–
Dance and dream– dance and dream–
Folk of woodland and tree and stream!
The Fire-Spirit:
Fire shall burn and be always new,
Flames leap wild on the flashing air;
I shall sweep from the heart of you,
Worldly fever of love and care–
Dance and leap– dance and leap–
Folk of woodland and wind and steep!
The Earth-Spirit:
Earth is kind in the peace of night,
Earth that loves when all else is done–
I will hide you at loss of light
Deep from the hurt of the snow or sun–
Dance till night– dance till night–
Folk of woodland and vale and height!
Chorus of Woodfolk:
Wild the heart of the magic wood,
Wild the dream that shall never stay,
Flute and laughter and dance are good,
Joy and singing the while we may–
Joy is good– joy is good–
Folk of river and field and wood!
SWANHILD SINGS UNSEEN: edit
White wings, far wings,
Fade down the sky,
Dream things, fair things
Follow and fly;
Young heart, wild heart,
Ah, could you follow
All the clouds, all the dreams,
Down the world's hollow!
SWANHILD SINGS TO THE KNIGHT: edit
What shall I do with my heart,
That will not go with thee,
Lover of mine, knight of mine,
Guide to the heights afar?
There is a dream to follow
That will not let me be–
I must go down to the marshland's water,
Hiding from wind and star!
What shall I do with thy heart,
Seeking me without rest,
I who must strip all hands from me,
Guarding my steps in fear!
Turn from the fairy woodland,
Pass to thy holy quest–
I must go seek for the track of the swan
And the sound of the step of the deer!
UNSPELLED edit
THE world of dream is shattered; hill and tree
And wingéd music and enchanted lawn;
For someone signed the cross, and suddenly
Our faëryland was gone:
The dark fell swiftly on the fear-struck land
And mocking echoes cried across the chill;
The wailing woodfolk fled us . . . but your hand
Held close to my hand still.
Oh, what are woodland dream and fluting reed,
Red glamor of enchanted jewel-stone?
I pass the ruined faëry-gates indeed . . .
But not alone.
THE SINGING WOOD edit
I FOLLOWED far from the roadway
After my golden ball
(How could I tell the way it went
Where it might lie or fall?)
And coaxing vines from the Singing Wood
Came twining around my feet
And scent of flowers from the Singing Wood
Oh, it was sweet, was sweet!
Once I met a satyr,
Once I was with a faun,
Once I spoke with a woman o' doom
Spinning from dusk till dawn,
Once I followed a will-o'-the-wisp
Dancing along the fen . . .
Never the sun in the Singing Wood
Never a bird-loud glen!
All the trees were sighing,
All of the brooks were tears,
All of the flowers were bleeding-hearts
Scarlet with hopes and fears,
All of the vines were hands that clung
Twisting about my heart . . .
Oh, the thorns of the Singing Wood
Sharp they can tear and smart!
I might have won to the rainbow's end,
But never for all o' me
Shall my feet stray into the Singing Wood
For any fair things that flee . . .
Here on earth are the day and night,
Human women and men–
And oh, 'tis good to be out o' the wood,
Into the world again!