• _shiro 5w

    She came by unknown ways, and stood
    At evening in the fading wood,
    which when the glowing hills were gone
    Would as in a dream murmur on,
    as she beside her camp-fire's glare
    Sat as if in a vision there,
    and felt the silence like a thing
    In which her soul was functioning.
    She was a poet maybe who
    The world's impression dreamy drew
    From her own heart in that strange air,
    like one who had been everywhere
    And with the stars and fire-lit trees
    Did blend a thousand memories,
    making that speck of light her home
    Until the dewy dawn should come.
    She well had seemed a phantom at
    Some mystic work as lone she sat
    Within her ring of charm├ęd light,
    who might step out into the night,
    And in a mischief-making mood
    Perturb the starry solitude
    Until her fire burnt out, and then
    Might creep back to her camp again,
    and wrapped within her blanket with a resolution of never coming out again...