Before the sun had run up o’er the hills,
When all the air was veils of misty gray,
I walked around the parkland of my host,
Full wide awake for wings of waking day.
There was I met with featherers right sweet
That chirped and sang and tweeted tree to tree,
And through the branches shadow-filled with night
Those dawning sparks lit up delight in me.
Thus happily I thread a denser part
Of that dim wood, but sudden stopped and stood.
Between thick bushes I could see a pool
Of water dark, and at its edge a hood.
From out this hood, of sombre, purplish red,
Loose golden hair hung curling all about,
Betraying woman fair, her face half hid
From me, who dared not move or give a shout,
For I had no desire to intrude
Upon her early morning solitude.
But as I sought to make a soft escape,
She suddenly threw off her sombre cape
And with a flash of lightning was I struck–
The lightning of her body catching flame,
As fiery through the trees the young sun struck
And sent my eyes a beauty without name!
A moment saw I faultless body white,
A moment caught I fearless face alive,
A moment bright firm breasts were pointed up,
Then deep into the pool she made her dive!
I did not stay to see the surface break,
But back I went, elated, through the park,
With surge of joyous song within my mind
Of splendid beauty proud to make its mark.
At breakfast, with my friend and his dear wife,
I met their daughter, June, whose hair I knew.
She said the wind was rather cool and harsh,
Would stay inside and read a book or two.