|
|
TWO fairies
it was On a still summer day Came forth in the
woods With the flowers to play. The flowers they
plucked They cast on the ground For others, and
those For still others they found. Flower-guided
it was That they came as they ran On something
that lay In the shape of a man. The snow must have
made The feathery bed When this one fell On the
sleep of the dead. But the snow was gone A long
time ago, And the body he wore Nigh gone with the
snow. The fairies drew near And keenly espied A
ring on his hand And a chain at his side. They
knelt in the leaves And eerily played With the
glittering things, And were not afraid. And when
they went home To hide in their burrow, They took
them along To play with to-morrow. When you came
on death, Did you not come flower-guided Like the
elves in the wood? I remember that I did. But I
recognised death With sorrow and dread, And I
hated and hate The spoils of the dead.
|
|
|