Alan Seeger (Алан Сигер)

Thirty Sonnets. 12. Sonnet 12. Like as a dryad, from her native bole

Like as a dryad, from her native bole
Coming at dusk, when the dim stars emerge,
To a slow river at whose silent verge
Tall poplars tremble and deep grasses roll,
Come thou no less and, kneeling in a shoal
Of the freaked flag and meadow buttercup,
Bend till thine image from the pool beam up
Arched with blue heaven like an aureole.
See how adorable in fancy then
Lives the fair face it mirrors even so,
O thou whose beauty moving among men
Is like the wind's way on the woods below,
Filling all nature where its pathway lies
With arms that supplicate and trembling sighs.

1. Thirty Sonnets. 30. At the Tomb of Napoleon before the Elections in America--November, 1912
2. Sonnet 9. Well, seeing I have no hope, then let us part
3. Tithonus
4. Sonnet 5. Seeing you have not come with me, nor spent
5. Thirty Sonnets. 8. Sonnet 8. Oft as by chance, a little while apart

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