DARK CHESTNUT

Thou shaking thy dark shadows down,

Like leaves before the first leaves fall,

Pourest upon the head of night

Her loveliest loveliness of all —

Dark leaves that tremble

When soft airs unto softer call.

O, darker, softer fall her thoughts

Upon the cold fields of my mind,

Weaving a quiet music there

Like leaf-shapes trembling in least wind:

Dark thoughts that linger

When the light's gone and the night's blind.

I see her there beneath your boughs.

Dark chestnut, though you see her not;

Her white face and white hands are clear

As the moon in your stretched arms caught;

But stranger, clearer,

The living shadows of her thought.