Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — Standing-Stone Creek

STANDING-STONE CREEK

A weed-grown slope, whereon the rain Has washed the brown rocks bare, Leads tangled from a lonely lane Down to a creek’s broad stair Of stone, that, through the solitude, Winds onward to a quiet wood.

An intermittent roof of shade The beech above it throws;

Along its steps a balustrade Of beauty builds the rose;

In which, a stately lamp of green, At intervals, the cedar’s seen.

The water, carpeting each ledge Of rock that runs across, Glints ’twixt a flow’r-embroidered edge Of ferns and grass and moss;

And in its deeps the wood and sky Seem patterns of the softest dye.

Long corridors of pleasant dusk Within the house of leaves It reaches; where, on looms of musk, The ceaseless locust weaves A web of summer; and perfume Trails a sweet gown from room to room.

Green windows of the boughs, that swing, It passes, where the notes Of birds are glad thoughts entering, And butterflies are motes;

And now a vista where the day Opens a door of wind and ray.

It is a stairway for all sounds That haunt the woodland sides;

On which, boy-like, the Southwind bounds, Girl-like, the sunbeam glides;

And, like fond parents, following these, The old-time dreams of rest and peace.