Page:The wind among the reeds.pdf/48



jester walked in the garden: The garden had fallen still; He bade his soul rise upward And stand on her window-sill.

It rose in a straight blue garment, When owls began to call: It had grown wise-tongued by thinking Of a quiet and light footfall;

But the young queen would not listen; She rose in her pale night gown; She drew in the heavy casement And pushed the latches down.