THE WHITE WITCH
"O What have you seen, my son, my son,
eyes are so wild and bright?
Or what have you heard in the eerie woods,
'Twixt the gloaming and the night?"
"I have met a witch, a white
My mother, mother dear;
The glamour of earth is on my eyes,
And its music in my ear.
"For we are deafen'd by angry words,
blinded by tears of woe,
But she has garner'd the secret joys
the genii know;
"Has learn'd from the voice of the fern-hid
Where all sweet thoughts abide,
And the violets have told her how
In the quiet eventide;
"And they fancy, mother, the world
Where the baby cloudlets play
Yearns down to the earth in mystic
That shall never pass away.
"The greenwood knows it; of this
Its murmuring tunes are made,
And the strange wild tale
that is ever wrought
Through its sunshine and its shade.
holy moon, as she moves along
From star to star on high,
Pours forth her
light as a bridal song
And a tender lullaby.
"O mother, my mother,
Who may the white witch be?
She has heard the things we
She has seen what we cannot see;
"The beauty that comes
in fitful gleams,
That comes, but will not stay,
The music that steals
across our dreams
From a region far away;
"What vainly I sought in
pain and doubt,
The light, the form, the tone,
At a single glance she has
found them out,
And made them all her own.
"And with all the music we
The beauty we cannot see,
O mother, mother, my mother dear,
She has wrought a charm on me."
[from Studies in Verse, by Charles
Grant. London: John Pearson York Street Covent Garden 1875]
with thanks to Raven Grimassi for sharing.