Oracles

ANIMA LUNAE I25 So mused the king. Mark you, the full moon shone ! Nay, but a little past the full, she rose An hour past sunset : as some laughter gone, After the bride’s night, lost in subtler snows Rosy with wifehood. Now the shallop glides On gloomier shadier tides, While the long hair of willows bent and kissed The stream, and drew its mist Up through their silent atmosphere. Some sorrow drawing near That slow, dark river would for sympathy Have found its home and never wandered out Into the sunlight any more. A sigh Stirred the pale waters where the moonlight stood Upon the sleepy flood In certain bough-wrought shapes of mystic meaning, As if the moon were weaning The king her babe from milk of life and love To milk new-dropped above From her sweet breast in vaporous light Into the willowy night That lay upon the river. So the king Heard a strange chant—the woods began to sing ; The river took the tune ; the willows kept Time ; and the black skies wept Those tears, those blossoms, those pearl drops of milk That the moon shed : and looking up he saw, As if the willows were but robes of silk, The moon’s face stoop and draw