in love

Bishop_Table_with_Candelabra_nd_watercolor_and_gouache0

I heard an elf go whistling by,

A whistle sleek as moonlit grass,

That drew me like a silver string

To where the dusty, pale moths fly,

And make a magic as they pass;

And there I heard a cricket sing.

 

His singing echoed through and through

The dark under a windy tree

Where glinted little insects’ wings.

His singing split the sky in two.

The halves fell either side of me,

And I stood straight, bright with moon-rings.

1927

 

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