This page has been validated.
THE WATCHERS.
241
Once more outside these prisonlng chamber walls
I walk where May the dreaming wood awakes,—
Where through thick leaves the bashful sunlight falls,
And the wind tells of buds and sprouting brakes.
I walk where May the dreaming wood awakes,—
Where through thick leaves the bashful sunlight falls,
And the wind tells of buds and sprouting brakes.
My burning hands grow strong again, and cool,
Laved in a brook amid the leafy glooms,
With the cool roots of rushes tangled full,
And choked with grass, and water-loving blooms.
Laved in a brook amid the leafy glooms,
With the cool roots of rushes tangled full,
And choked with grass, and water-loving blooms.
Faded!—and see, across my aching sight
Falls chill and cold the day's unwelcome glare,
For with the blessed shadows of the night
Depart the Watchers with the shining hair!
Falls chill and cold the day's unwelcome glare,
For with the blessed shadows of the night
Depart the Watchers with the shining hair!
