Page:Veil other poems .djvu/63



ARE-SWEET the air in that unimagined country—
 * My spirit had wandered far

From its weary body close-enwrapt in slumber
 * Where its home and earth-friends are;

A milk-like air—and of light all abundance;
 * And there a river clear

Painting the scene like a picture on its bosom,
 * Green foliage drifting near.

No sign of life I saw, as I pressed onward,
 * Fish, nor beast, nor bird,

Till I came to a hill clothed in flowers to its summit,
 * Then shrill small voices I heard.

And I saw from concealment a company of elf-folk
 * With faces strangely fair,

Talking their unearthly scattered talk together,
 * A bind of green-grasses in their hair.