THE HONEY POOL"A honey pool will be enforced."—Markets item.
Does it lie in a place of rusty fern
With the young cowls leaning to look therein?
Do the pale gold spiders across it spin?
Do the sunrays bathe in it, till they burn
The ripples of mead that are syrup-sweet,
Does it make a snare for the beetles' feet?
With the young cowls leaning to look therein?
Do the pale gold spiders across it spin?
Do the sunrays bathe in it, till they burn
The ripples of mead that are syrup-sweet,
Does it make a snare for the beetles' feet?
It has set the ox-eyed daisies wondering,
And a gallant iris beside the rim
Has swung towards it, till, blurred and dim,
Its purple image the pool is pondering,
Half-angered deep in its sunlit fold,
That the sombre petals should dull such gold.
And a gallant iris beside the rim
Has swung towards it, till, blurred and dim,
Its purple image the pool is pondering,
Half-angered deep in its sunlit fold,
That the sombre petals should dull such gold.
Where the fairy lances of tall reeds meet
With their green flags lisping of scented things,
Does the herald bee come with hurrying wings,
For news like this must be carried fleet,
"Oh, comrades mine, by the grey toadstool
I saw myself in a honey pool!"
With their green flags lisping of scented things,
Does the herald bee come with hurrying wings,
For news like this must be carried fleet,
"Oh, comrades mine, by the grey toadstool
I saw myself in a honey pool!"
A big black butterfly, softly winging,
Poised there and sipped as it fluttered through;
And a lark dropped down from the arch of blue,
For his willing throat had grown hoarse with singing;
So he filled his beak where the pool lay bright
And his voice went on in a trail of light.
Poised there and sipped as it fluttered through;
And a lark dropped down from the arch of blue,
For his willing throat had grown hoarse with singing;
So he filled his beak where the pool lay bright
And his voice went on in a trail of light.
