Oread, Dryad, or Naiad, or just
Woman, clad only in youth and in gallant perfection,
Standing up in a great burst of sunshine, you
dazzle my eyes
Like a snow-star, a moon, your effulgence burns up
in a halo,
For you are the chalice which holds all the races of
men.
You slip into the pool and the water folds over your
shoulder,
And over the tree-tops the clouds slowly follow
your swimming, To behold the way they act.
And the scent of the woods is sweet on this hot
summer morning.
AMY LOWELL
LEPRECHAUNS AND CLURICAUNS
OVER where the Irish hedges
Are with blossoms white as snow,
Over where the limestone ledges
Through the soft green grasses show-
There the fairies may be seen
In their jackets of red and green,
Leprechauns and cluricauns,
And the other ones, I ween.
And, bedad, it is a wonder
To behold the way they act.
They're the lads that seldom blunder,
Wise and wary, that's the fact.
You may hold them with your eye;
Look away and off they fly;
Leprechauns and cluricauns,
Bedad, but they are sly!
They have heaps of golden treasure
Hid away within the ground,
Where they spend their days in leisure,
And where fairy joys abound;
But to mortals not a guinea
Will they give-no, not a penny.
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