Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu/77



and misty rose And iris-flushed mother-of-pearl Is the world at the clear day's close, River and sky and sand: Into a land we sail Soft-hued like the dreams of a girl, Vaguely outlined and bubble-frail— Into a mystic land.

Speak, and the vision breaks, Yea, feel but too strongly, it flies From the tumult its beauty wakes Deep in our hearts' stronghold; We can but stand and gaze, With all our souls' life in our eyes, As we spin out this day of days Thin to a thread of gold.