Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — Meeting in the Woods

MEETING IN THE WOODS

Through ferns and moss the path wound to A hollow where the touch-me-nots Swung horns of honey filled with dew;

And where--like footprints--violets blue And bluets made sweet sapphire blots, ’Twas there that she had passed I knew.

The grass, the very wilderness On either side, breathed rapture of Her passage: ’twas her hand or dress That touched some tree--a slight caress-- That made the wood-birds sing above;

Her step that woke the flowers, I guess.

I hurried, till across my way, Foam-footed, bounding through the wood, A brook, like some wild child at play, Went laughing loud its roundelay;

And there upon its bank she stood, A sunbeam clad in forest gray.

And when she saw me, all her face Bloomed like a wild-rose by the stream;

And to my breast a moment’s space I gathered her; and all the place Seemed conscious of some happy dream Come true to add to Earth its grace: Some union, that was Heav’n’s intent-- For which God made the world--the bliss, The love, that raised her innocent Young face to mine that, smiling, bent And sealed her first words with a kiss-- As Love might close his testament.