The Poetry Corner

Voices

By Madison Julius Cawein

I. I heard the ancient forest talk, (Its voice was like a wandering breeze): It said, "Who is it comes to walk Along my paths when, white as chalk, The moon hangs o'er my sleeping trees? What presence is it no one sees?" II. And then I heard a voice reply, That seemed far off yet very near; It sounded from the earth and sky, And said, "A spirit walketh here, Whom mortals know as Awe and Fear. Terrible and beautiful am I." III. And then I heard the meadows say, (Their voice was as the sound of streams, Or rain that comes from far away): "Who sits amid us here and dreams, When sunlight on our blossoms gleams, And keeps us company all day?" IV. And then I heard a voice intone, A voice not near yet all around: "I am that spirit, yea, thine own, Who worketh wonders in the ground: Some call me Love that hath no bound, And I am beautiful alone."