Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — Discovery

One foot just dipping the caressing wave, One knee at languid angle; locks that drown Hands nut-stained; hazel-eyed, she lies, and grave, Watching the leaves drift down.

DISCOVERY

What is it now that I shall seek Where woods dip downward, in the hills?

-- A mossy nook, a ferny creek, And May among the daffodils.

Or in the valley’s vistaed glow, Past rocks of terraced trumpet-vines, Shall I behold her coming slow, Sweet May, among the columbines?

With red-bud cheeks and bluet eyes, Big eyes, the homes of happiness, To meet me with the old surprise, Her hoiden hair all bonnetless.

Who waits for me, where, note for note, The birds make glad the forest trees?

A dogwood blossom at her throat, My May among th’ anemones.

As sweetheart breezes kiss the blooms, And dewdrops drink the moon’s bright beams, My soul shall kiss her lips’ perfumes, And drain the magic of her dreams.

THE OLD SPRING