Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 3 — Occult

OCCULT

Unto the soul’s companionship Of things that only seem to be, Earth points with magic finger-tip And bids thee see How Fancy keeps thee company.

For oft at dawn hast not beheld A spirit of prismatic hue Blow wide the buds, which night hath swelled?

And stain them through With heav’n’s ethereal gold and blue?

While at her side another went With gleams of enigmatic white?

A spirit who distributes scent, To vale and height, In footsteps of the rosy light?

And oft at dusk hast thou not seen The star-fays bring their caravans Of dew, and glitter all the green, Night’s shadow tans, With drops the rain-hung cobweb spans?

Nor watched with these the elfins go Who tune faint instruments--that sound Like that moon-music insects blow?

-- Then haunted ground Thou hast not trodden, never found!

WOOD-WORDS