200 MYSTERIES:
LOVE ON THE ISLAND.
EEP in the woods where the ocean reaches
Up to the walls of a white-sand bay,
And the sea waves swing to the noise of beeches
Kissed by summer night winds at play,
None may look through the silver-gray
Moonlit haunts, where the sea-gull screeches,
And the nightingale chants the woodland way.
None may see where the leaves are parted,
Where the nymph and the satyr hide,
Where the lips of the tender-hearted
Melt for languor and pout for pride,
Where the birds of the night abide,
Where the songs of the wood are started
Under the moon on the green hill-side.
Maidens white as the doves that hover
Coyly hide on the woodland steep,
Maids that the leaves of the beeches cover
Laugh and chide and sigh and weep
And sink back tenderly into sleep,
Into the arms of the happy lover,
On to the breast where delight lies deep.