The Poetry Corner

A Forest Flute

By Madison Julius Cawein

I Heard a reed among the hills, A woodland reed of music where, Like madcap children, ran the rills, Boisterous, with wildly flowing hair. I knew it for a pipe the Spring Tuned to the rapture in her heart, That in the egg should shape the wing, And in the seed the wildflower start. And I I followed where it blew, And found a valley, dim and green, A wild spot, like a drop of dew, Hung glimmeringly two hills between. I heard the flute, a bird-like note, That made the place a magic well, On which enchantment seemed to float, A spirit in a rainbow shell. I knew what danced there with its flute, Unseen, a part of soul and mind: I saw the imprint of its foot, In many a flower of orchis-kind. I knew it of an ancient race, Some myth the Greeks had known of old. Could I have spoken it face to face Of what lost dreams I might have told!