The Dryad.

I have seen her limpid eyes     Large with gradual laughter rise      Through wild-roses' nettles,     Like twin blossoms grow and stare,     Then a hating, envious air      Whisked them into petals.     I have seen her hardy cheek     Like a molten coral leak      Through the leafage shaded     Of thick Chickasaws, and then,     When I made more sure, again      To a red plum faded.     I have found her racy lips,     And her graceful finger-tips,      But a haw and berry;     Glimmers of her there and here,     Just, forsooth, enough to cheer      And to make me merry.     Often on the ferny rocks     Dazzling rimples of loose locks      At me she hath shaken,     And I've followed - 'twas in vain -     They had trickled into rain      Sun-lit on the braken.     Once her full limbs flashed on me,     Naked where some royal tree      Powdered all the spaces     With wan sunlight and quaint shade,     Such a haunt romance hath made      For haunched satyr-races.     There, I wot, hid amorous Pan,     For a sudden pleading ran      Through the maze of myrtle,     Whiles a rapid violence tossed     All its flowerage, - 'twas the lost      Cooings of a turtle.