The Poetry Corner

Will-O'-The-Wisp

By Madison Julius Cawein

I. There in the calamus he stands With frog-webbed feet and bat-winged hands; His glow-worm garb glints goblin-wise; And elfishly, and elfishly, Above the gleam of owlet eyes, A death's-moth cap of downy dyes Nods out at me, nods out at me. II. Now in the reeds his face looks white As witch-down on a witches' night; Now through the dark old haunted mill, So eerily, so eerily, He flits; and with a whippoorwill Mouth calls, and seems to syllable, "Come follow me! come follow me!" III. Now o'er the sluggish stream he wends, A slim light at his finger-ends; The spotted spawn, the toad hath clomb, Slips oozily, slips oozily; His easy footsteps seem to come - Like bubble-gaspings of the scum - Now near to me, now near to me. IV. There by the stagnant pool he stands, A fox-fire lamp in flickering hands; The weeds are slimy to the tread, And mockingly, and mockingly, With slanted eyes and eldritch head He leans above a face long dead, - The face of me! the face of me!