Shapes and Shadows — In June

IN _June_.

Deep in the West a berry-coloured bar Of sunset gleams; against which one tall fir Is outlined dark; above which--courier Of dew and dreams--burns dusk's appointed star.

And flash on flash, as when the elves wage war In Goblinland, the fireflies bombard The stillness; and, like spirits, o'er the sward The glimmering winds bring fragrance from afar.

And now withdrawn into the hill-wood belts A whippoorwill; while, with attendant states Of purple and silver, slow the great moon melts Into the night--to show me where _she_ waits,-- Like some slim moonbeam,--by the old beech-tree, Who keeps her lips, fresh as a flower, for me.