126 ON THE STAIRS.
Fear not for the spring-time awaking;
Tis sure as the path of a star ; The Watcher unsleeping is ready
The doorway of sleep to unbar
In time for that stir in the forest
For the ears of a mortal too fine, When rootlets commence their spring ploughing,
And maple trees call up their wine.
Good-night, little shivering grasses !
Lie down neath the coverlet white, And rest till the cuckoo is singing ;
Good-night, little grasses, good-night !
��ON THE STAIRS.
THEY talked about music and fate, And moonlight, and swift intuition ; They murmured of mystical lore Love s advent by sweet premonition.
Then stared at the sticks of her fan
- Till it broke so it seems from their story-
And quoted small scraps from a song All about faithful love and its glory.
A compact of friendship came next, Like an opal, fire-hearted, soft glowing,
Till jealousy taught one the truth,
Who woke from a dream at its showing.