THE SOMNAMBULIST.

Oaks and a water. By the water — eyes,

Ice-green and steadfast as cold stars; and hair

Yellow as eyes deep in a she-wolf's lair;

And limbs, like darkness that the lightning dyes.

The humped oaks stand black under iron skies;

The dry wind whirls the dead leaves everywhere;

Wild on the water falls a vulture glare

Of moon, and wild the circling raven flies.

Again the power of this thing hath laid

Illusion on him: and he seems to hear

A sweet voice calling him beyond his gates

To longed-for love; he comes; each forest glade

Seems reaching out white arms to draw him near —

Nearer and nearer to the death that waits.