The Poetry Corner

The Somnambulist.

By Madison Julius Cawein

Oaks and a water. By the water-eyes, Ice-green and steadfast as cold stars; and hair Yellow as eyes deep in a she-wolf's lair; And limbs, like darkness that the lightning dyes. The humped oaks stand black under iron skies; The dry wind whirls the dead leaves everywhere; Wild on the water falls a vulture glare Of moon, and wild the circling raven flies. Again the power of this thing hath laid Illusion on him: and he seems to hear A sweet voice calling him beyond his gates To longed-for love; he comes; each forest glade Seems reaching out white arms to draw him near Nearer and nearer to the death that waits.