Page:Mandragora.djvu/129

 ::::THE WOOD OME with me to the mossy places. Where the rippling amber stream, Mirroring our shadowy faces, Leads us on from dream to dream.

Come with me where the leaves are still; And the wood is hushed like a grassy hill, A hill of silence, whose fleecy sheep Are the clouds of sleep — the clouds of sleep!

Heavy and dark are the rain-wet ferns Drooping over the rocky pool — See how the steamlet ebbs and turns Sprinkling the moss with its ripples cool!

Ah! The wisdom of life is here; As old as I, as young as you; Thrilling both of us thro' and thro'. Ah! The wisdom of life is here!

In every plant and in every sod, The old earth-wisdom here is furled; Wisdom older than any god, Wisdom older than the world!

There are whispers here, there are whispers deep, Hid in these places, that can raise Memories out of caverns of sleep, That throw strange meanings upon our days!