The pale dawn went down unto the sea, Past the gray ships in the offing. The salt wind found her blowing hair And closed his wings and nested there, And the salt sea hungered for her rare Sweet body and forgot his scoffing. The pale dawn went down unto the sea When all the world was sleeping; She lifted veils and veils of air Until her eager limbs were bare, And the salt sea shook his manéd hair, And the curl'd waves came to her, leaping. MARSH-LANDS Sure in this spongy and luxuriant retreat-- This lovely lyric little marsh Which nothing hath of fierce or harsh, Unhappy fancies to evoke, Where all life is most delicately attuned to sweet Melodious living, here we'll meet Naiads dainty and discreet With other watery folk And watch the twinkle of their iridescent feet. Upon a reed's high silver point Which early dews anoint, The Red-wing lights and poises, swaying, With throaty and delicious whistle playing Pan-music in the mellow morning light. It is like running water's flow A bit unearthly, and celestial quite-- A golden tremolo; And satin robes of air half veil him from our sight. The gay marsh-marigold Delights its small sun to unfold; And many a bulbous goblin thing, Ugly and grave, Into the dull mud burrowing Draws from some secret treasure-cave And to the sunlight heaves Green breadth--great leaves To build a vessel floating on an inland wave. We'll be as busy as the clouds, with naught to do, And we will wonder at the curious striping, In saffron glimpses, of more distant pools Which the wind cools With deep reflected blue. And we will listen now to Hyla's piping-- A thin small sprite That one may never see Calling to the sky his clear delight Filled with insatiate and unbounded ecstasy. SPRING FANCY There is an orchard, old and rare, (I cannot tell you where!) With green doors opening to the sun; And the sky-children gather there To watch the blossoms, one by one, Falling wistfully thru the air From the trees' dishevelled hair. The sky-children shake their wings With flutterings and gurglings-- And love the light and kiss the sun, Nor heed the blossoms that have blown From the fruit-wives' ancient hair Earthward thru the glowing air, Wistfully--one by one. SONG A Flicker, a Robin, a Song-sparrow Have come from Arcady. The Flicker was an imp that shouted in a tree; The Robin was a winged laugh that Spring set free; The Song-sparrow was a liquid arrow That pierced to the heart of me. PLAYING Three little girls and one little boy Out in the first warm sunshine; The wind blows in and the wind blows out Voices cool as moonshine.