The woodman answered me, His faggot on his back:-- "Seek not the face of Pan to see; Flee from his clear note summoning thee To darkness deep and black!
"He dwells in thickest shade, Piping his notes forlorn Of sorrow never to be allayed; Turn from his coverts sad Of twilight unto morn!"
The woodman passed away Along the forest path; His ax shone keen and grey In the last beams of day: And all was still as death:--
Only Pan singing sweet Out of Earth's fragrant shade; I dreamed his eyes to meet, And found but shadow laid Before my tired feet.
Comes no more dawn to me, Nor bird of open skies. Only his woods' deep gloom I see Till, at the end of all, shall rise, Afar and tranquilly, Death's stretching sea.
Three and thirty birds there stood In an elder in a wood; Called Melmillo--flew off three, Leaving thirty in a tree; Called Melmillo--nine now gone, And the boughs held twenty-one; Called Melmillo--eighteen Left but three to nod and preen; Called Melmillo--three--two--one-- Now of birds were feathers none.
Then stole slim Melmillo in To that wood all dusk and green, And with lean long palms outspread Softly a strange dance did tread; Not a note of music she Had for echoing company; All the birds were flown to rest In the hollow of her breast; In the wood thorn, elder, willow-- Danced alone--lone danced Melmillo.
Hearken! now the hermit bee Drones a quiet threnody; Greening on the stagnant pool The criss-cross light is beautiful; In the venomed yew tree wings Preen and flit. The linnet sings.
Gradually the brave sun Sinks to a day's journey done; In the marshy flats abide Mists to muffle midnight-tide. Puffed within the belfry tower Hungry owls drowse out their hour....
Walk in beauty. Vaunt thy rose. Flaunt thy poisonous loveliness! Pace for pace with thee there goes A shape that hath not come to bless. I, thine enemy?... Nay, nay! I can only watch, and wait Patient treacherous time away, Hold ajar the wicket gate.
Sitting under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), One last candle burning low, All the sleepy dancers gone, Just one candle burning on, Shadows lurking everywhere: Some one came, and kissed me there.
Tired I was; my head would go Nodding under the mistletoe (Pale-green, fairy mistletoe), No footsteps came, no voice, but only, Just as I sat there, sleepy, lonely, Stooped in the still and shadowy air Lips unseen--and kissed me there.