FAUN-CALL

Oh, who is he will follow me

With a singing,

Down sunny roads where windy odes

Of the woods are ringing?

Where leaves are tossed from branches lost

In a tangle

Of vines that vie to clamber high —

But to vault and dangle!

Oh, who is he?— His eye must be

As a lover's

To leap and woo the chicory's hue

In the hazel-hovers!

His hope must dance like radiance

That hurries

To scatter shades from the silent glades

Where the quick hare scurries.

And he must see that Autumn's glee

And her laughter

From his lips and heart will quell all smart —

Of before and after!