Poems (Procter)/In the Wood

by Adelaide Anne Procter

IN THE WOOD.

N the wood where shadows are deepest
 From the branches overhead,
Where the wild wood-strawberries cluster,
 And the softest moss is spread,
I met to-day with a fairy,
 And I followed her where she led.

Some magical words she uttered,
 I alone could understand,
For the sky grew bluer and brighter;
 While there rose on either hand
The cloudy walls of a palace,
 That was built in Fairy-land.

And I stood in a strange enchantment;
 I had known it all before:
In my heart of hearts was the magic
 Of days that will come no more,
The magic of joy departed,
 That Time can never restore.

That never, ah, never, never,
 Never again can be:—
Shall I tell you what powerful fairy
 Built up this palace for me?
It was only a little white Violet
 I found at the root of a tree.