I pushed the leaves aside:
Upon a mountain lawn
I saw a little fawn
White-throated, vivid, pied.
" Her eyes are just as tender,
Her ankles just as slender, "
I said. With challenged grace,
It fled before my face,
Slim-ankled, velvet-eyed.

I watched a topmost spray
Of leaves that move and shimmer
In faintest airs of Summer
Before the trance of day.
I said, " A curl can float
Breathless across her throat. "
The silver leaves stopt glistening
As if they had been listening
To what I had to say.

A bank of tangled briars
Sloped gently to the south,
Its leaves recalled her mouth
With their soft hidden fires.
" Her lips are bright as cherries
And sweet as wild strawberries, "
I said. Where leaves were spangled
The wild rose grew more tangled
With barbed and bending wires.

From some rush-hidden spring
A stream in little trebles
Tinkled from pools of pebbles
And gurgled, preluding
Each laughing, liquid note,
Coiled in a woman's throat.
I said, " I hear her laughter " ;
And then, a moment after,
The stream began to sing.

The bank I rested on
Was gently curved and warm,
I dreamt about her form.
I said, " She has withdrawn
Into herself delight
And joy from every sight. "
The wind that dusks the grasses
Tells when a spirit passes —
I felt that she was gone.