When first I saw him, I but saw
The shadow on his brow,
But, seeing that, forgot all else
Of happiness or woe. I had been plucking early bloom
From where the brooklets run,
And stood just at the forest's verge,
'Twixt shadow and the sun. I am not fair like Maud and Jeanne,
Nor gay like Clementine;
The glory lingering in their locks
Forgets to brighten mine. My footsteps pause amid the flowers
They trample in their mirth;
For me a crown of mystic stars
Lies on the breast of earth. Yet as his eyes fell on my face,
I saw his glance grow deep
As his who looks upon a lake
Where moonbeams lie asleep. And though his smile half passed away,
'Twas like the fading light
Of stars that only fade because
The dawn lifts on the night. A maiden lovely as the first
Arbutus-bloom of May,
Was with him when I next beheld
Him pass along that way. The boughs were waving o'er their heads,
The sunbeams at their feet
Lay like half-woven coronals
Of blossoms rare and sweet. Yet when he came unto the spot
Where I had stood that day,
I saw him pause and cast one glance
Of wistfulness that way. And seeing, I upraised my voice
From out the woodland's heart,
And sang like one to whom the heavens
Some vision fair impart. I sang of stars--and straight the sky
Seemed to grow still and dark,
And myriad burning jets of flame
Shoot from it spark by spark. I sang of bulbuls and the East--
And through the woods there pressed
A thousand spicy scents that blew
About my brow and breast. And then, and then, like leaping flame
My passionate soul upsprang,
I loosed my spirit on the world,
And love, sweet love, I sang. The birds were cooing in the trees,
They grew as still as death;
The breeze that drinks the souls of flow'rs
Paused on its perfumed breath. And still I sang; like doom I sang;
My soul arose in air;
I dropped the music from the clouds;
I felt my face grow fair. And when I ceased I saw afar,
Toward the setting sun,
His head sink slowly on his breast,
Like one whose race is run. And though the mellow twilight soon,
Like purple-breasted dove,
Passed flying towards the blazoned west
And all was dark above, I did not stir, but sat like one
From whom the world has sped;
My eyes upon the way he went,
The shadows on my head. Alas, the days are long since then,
And many an eve gone by,
But still in dreams I sit and watch
That barren heath and sky.