  A SPIRIT through My window came when earth was soft with dew, Close at the tender edge of dawn when all The spring was new, And bore me back Along her rose-and-starry tinted track, And showed me how the full-winged day emerged From out the black. She knew the speech Of all the deep-pink blossoms of the peach, Told in my ear the meanings of the trees, The thoughts of each; Explained to me The language of the bird and frog and bee, The messages the streams and rivers take Unto the sea. Alas! Alas! I have forgot. The dream did from me pass. I know not e’en the meaning dear and sweet Of common grass. And now when I Roam this strange earth beneath a stranger sky, Soft syllables of that forgotten speech Faint as a sigh, Come back again, With sweet solicitings that urge like pain, And brood like love—as full of light and dark As April rain. |
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