Interpreted

written by


« Reload image

What magic shall solve us the secret
  Of beauty that's born for an hour?
That gleams like the flight of an egret,
  Or burns like the scent of a flower,
  With death for a dower?

What leaps in the bosk but a satyr?
  What pipes on the wind but a faun?
Or laughs in the waters that scatter,
  But limbs of a nymph who is gone,
  When we walk in the dawn?

What sings on the hills but a fairy?
  Or sighs in the fields but a sprite?
What breathes through the leaves but the airy
  Soft spirits of shadow and light,
  When we walk in the night?

Behold how the world-heart is eager
  To draw us and hold us and claim!
Through truths of the dreams that beleaguer
  Her soul she makes ours the same,
  And death but a name.

© Madison Julius Cawein