SINCE THEN.

I found myself among the trees

What time the reapers ceased to reap;

And in the berry blooms the bees

Huddled wee heads and went to sleep,

Rocked by the silence and the breeze.

I saw the red fox leave his lair,

A shaggy shadow, on the knoll;

And, tunnelling his thoroughfare

Beneath the loam, I watched the mole —

Stealth's own self could not take more care.

I heard the death-moth tick and stir,

Slow-honeycombing through the bark;

I heard the crickets’ drowsy chirr,

And one lone beetle burr the dark —

The sleeping woodland seemed to purr.

And then the moon rose; and a white

Low bough of blossoms — grown almost

Where, ere you died,‘ twas our delight

To tryst,— dear heart!— I thought your ghost....

The wood is haunted since that night.