Buffalo Creek

A timid child with heart oppressed  
 By images of sin,  
I slunk into the bush for rest,  
 And found my fairy kin.  
 The fire I carried kept me warm:  
 The friendly air was chill.  
The laggards of the lowing storm  
Trailed gloom along the hill.  
 I watched the crawling monsters melt  
 And saw their shadows wane  
As on my satin skin I felt  
 The fingers of the rain.  
 The sunlight was a golden beer,  
 I drank a magic draught;  
The sky was clear and, void of fear,  
 I stood erect and laughed.  
 And sudden laughter, idly free,  
 About me trilled and rang,  
And love was shed from every tree,  
 And little bushes sang.  
 The bay of conscience’ bloody hound  
 That tears the world apart  
Has never drowned the silent sound  
 Within my happy heart.