Occult

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Unto the soul's companionship
  Of things that only seem to be,
  Earth points with magic fingertip
  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 has 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,
  From many starbeam sprinkling-cans?

  Nor watched with these the elfins go
  Who tune faint instruments? whose sound
  Is that moon-music insects blow
  When all the ground
  Sleeps, and the night is hushed around?

© Madison Julius Cawein