A Reed by the River/In the Woods
IN THE WOODS
The dryads are not dead
Nor satyrs fled;
Today within the wood
Their sovereign stood,
Vital, erect, with gnarled and out-thrust arms
Inviting expectation's old alarms.
Nor satyrs fled;
Today within the wood
Their sovereign stood,
Vital, erect, with gnarled and out-thrust arms
Inviting expectation's old alarms.
Perchance in the wind's way
A summons lay;
Or a bird's keener throat
The piercing note
Of echoes long since dead it had
That called to life, to love, to tumult mad.
A summons lay;
Or a bird's keener throat
The piercing note
Of echoes long since dead it had
That called to life, to love, to tumult mad.
With the dawn's kindling fire,
Or day's red pyre,
Once more the old sap heard,
Thrilled deep and stirred,
And straightway from the silent heart it crept
Through the sere veins for ages that have slept,
Or day's red pyre,
Once more the old sap heard,
Thrilled deep and stirred,
And straightway from the silent heart it crept
Through the sere veins for ages that have slept,
Crying; "Awake! Behold!"
The stalwart pines and old,
The kingly oaks and high,
Did writhe and sigh
Rent with mute longing and the imprisoned pain
Of dreaming broke, of memory again.
The stalwart pines and old,
The kingly oaks and high,
Did writhe and sigh
Rent with mute longing and the imprisoned pain
Of dreaming broke, of memory again.