In the Forest (Wilde)

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Out of the mid-wood's twilight

Into the meadow's dawn,

Ivory limbed and brown-eyed,

Flashes my Faun!


He skips through the copses singing,

And his shadow dances along,

And I know not which I should follow,

Shadow or song!


O Hunter, snare me his shadow!

O Nightingale, catch me his strain,

Else moonstruck with music and madness

I track him in vain!