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MANDRAGORA
THE FLUTE-PLAYER
ONCE I saw her. 'Twas long ago;
From the bridge of a dream-city.
Drops of rain were falling slow.
It was autumn and long ago;
And somewhere in the fields below
A flute-player played this ditty —
One look and never the same again
Are the roses on the wall;
One look and forever the midnight rain
With a different sound must fall.
Gables and gardens, roofs and towers,
Hung vague and rich and dim.
From somewhere there came a scent of flowers,
And a wind from the world's rim;
And the sun sank red behind the towers,
And she stood and looked at him.
She looked at him from a closed window,
Then at me did she look down.
