Page:The Vow of the Peacock.pdf/159

150

But here the moss is soft, and when the wind Has been felt even through the forest screen,— For round, like guardians to the willows, stand Oaks large and old, tall firs, dark beach, and elms Rich with the yellow wealth that April brings,— A shower of rose-leaves makes it like a bed Whereon a nymph might sleep, when, with her arm Shining like snow amid her raven hair, She dreamt of the sweet song wherewith the faun Had lulled her, and awakening from her rest When through the leaves an amorous sunbeam stole And kissed her eyes; the fountain were a bath For her to lave her ivory feet, and cool The crimson beauty of her sleep-warm cheek, And bind her ruffled curls in the blue mirror Of the transparent waters. But these days