THE MOONMEN.

I stood in the forest on HURON HILL

When the night was old and the world was still.

The Wind was a wizard who muttering strode

In a raven cloak on a haunted road.

The Sound of Water, a witch who crooned

Her spells to the rocks the rain had runed.

And the Gleam of the Dew on the fern's green tip

Was a sylvan passing with robe a-drip.

The Light of the Stars was a glimmering maid

Who stole, an elfin, from glade to glade.

The Scent of the Woods in the delicate air,

A wildflower shape with chilly hair.

And Silence, a spirit who sat alone

With a lifted finger and eyes of stone.

And it seemed to me these six were met

To greet a greater who came not yet.

And the speech they spoke, that I listened to,

Was the archetype of the speech I knew.

For the Wind clasped hands with the Water's rush,

And I heard them whisper, Hush, oh, hush!

The Light of the Stars and the Dew's cool gleam

Touched lips and murmured, Dream, oh dream!

The Scent of the Woods and the Silence deep

Sighed, bosom to bosom, Sleep, oh, sleep!

And so for a moment the six were dumb,

Then exulted together, They come, they come!

And I stood expectant and seemed to hear

A visible music drawing near.

And the first who came was the Captain Moon

Bearing a shield in GOD'S House hewn.

Then an Army of glamour, a glittering Host,

Beleaguered the night from coast to coast.

And the world was filled with spheric fire

From the palpitant chords of many a lyre,

As out of the East the MOONMEN came

Smiting their harps of silver and flame.

More beauty and grace did their forms express

Than the QUEEN OF LOVE'S white nakedness.

More chastity too their faces held

Than the snowy breasts of DIANA swelled.

Translucent-limbed, I saw the beat

In their hearts of pearl of the golden heat.

And the hair they tossed was a crystal light,

And the eyes beneath it were burning white.

Their hands that lifted, their feet that fell,

Made the darkness blossom to asphodel.

And the heavens, the hills, and the streams they trod

Shone pale with th’ communicated God.

A placid frenzy, a waking trance,

A soft oracular radiance,

Wrapped forms that moved as melodies move,

Laurelled with god-head and halo'd with love.

So there in the forest on HURON HILL

The MOONMEN camped when the world was still....

What wonder that they who have looked on these

Are lost to the earth's realities!

That they sit aside with a far-off look

Dreaming the dreams that are writ in no book!

That they walk alone till the day they die,

Even as I, yea, even as I!