Page:Poems Elliott.djvu/52

To My Pony

When first she did appear to me,
From out the dusky shrubbery,
The moonlight silvering brook and tree,
   I gazed with fear—

What mythic dam, what fabled sire,
Did with the laughing Fates conspire,
Imbue with mythologic fire
   This creature here?

For "beggar's louse" and clinging burr
Had made a Unicorn of her
And upright tail, like a Centaur
   Bespoke her ire.—

What Faun had ridden her to me—
Was hiding now behind what tree—
Ashamed of his simplicity
   And scant attire?

But as the moon's soft ambient light
Was cast abroad upon the night
I saw before me, standing there,
A gentle little dark brown mare—
With forehead broad and liquid eyes,
Gazing upon me in surprise.
Avaunt thy mythic ancestry!
Thy waiting Faun behind the tree!
I'm glad thou'rt not of spirits born—