Danske Dandridge (Данске Дэндридж)

Telepathy

I

Why, from the far-away
Did you send such a waif to me,
You seer with the long-reaching eyes,
You soul with the mage's vision?
Oh, on a lavish day,
My dream went out to grope,
Blind, on the hills of Hope,
And there, by a fond misprison,
The waif of your spirit found her,
Kissed her, clasped her, and bound her.
Your captive dream to be.
           
II
           
On an Indian-summer day
When Joy, before she dies,
Pants with a wild death passion,
My songs from the hills arise
To greet you in lover's fashion.
O Captor that art not free,
Bound by a dream's control
Do you miss your straying soul,
You body so far away?

1. The Spirit of the Fall
2. The Moth and the Evening Primrose
3. Bloodroot
4. Wings
5. Beneath the Pines

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