Page:Foliage, various poems.djvu/59

 A mile, and still no human folk

Tread on my shadow. Seek me where

The strange oak tree is, that can bear

One white-leaved branch among the green—

Which many a woodman has not seen.

If you would find me, go where cows

And sheep stand under shady boughs;

Where furious squirrels shake a tree

As though they'd like to bury me

Under a leaf shower heavy, and

I laugh at them for spite, and stand.

Seek me no more in human ways—

Who am a coward since those days

My mind was burned by poor men's eyes,

And frozen by poor women's sighs.

Then send your pearls across the sea,

Your feathers, scent and ivory,

You distant lands—but let my bales

Be brought by Cuckoos, Nightingales,

That come in spring from your far shores;

Sweet birds that carry richer stores

Than men can dream of, when they prize

Fine silks and pearls for merchandise;

And dream of ships that take the floods

Sunk to their decks with such vain goods;

Bringing that traitor silk, whose soft

Smooth tongue persuades the poor too oft