Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu/58

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THE MOON AND THE MORNING



THE MOON AND THE MORNING


The moon is riding high, the stars are shining
    But very palely, through the clear blue light;
The plain is empty, and the circling mountains
    Rise cold and far through swathes of mist to-night.

There is no wind astir, the serried rushes
    Stand straight as lances round the glassed lagoon;
Within still waters grows a single lily,
    A great white flower of solitude, the moon.

My shadow that seemed taller than the mountains
    Lies gathered at my feet, a pool of ink,
And as I move towards the sombre reed-beds
    I watch it spill and trickle, spread and shrink.

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