The First Mist

Once Hermes paused in arrowy flight And while he hovered to alight, Beheld a winsome mortal maid; With other maids she danced and played; They all were fair; he thought this one The fairest thing beneath the sun.

Then Hermes, like a golden gleam, Darted and dropped beside a stream; He called up from the water clear A naiad; in her dripping ear He whispered long and low, while she Nodded and chuckled pleasantly. She waved her hand; he flew away; A mist formed ’round the maids at play. Then flying Hermes did invade The thickening mist and kissed the maid, And flew reluctantly away With sighs and smiles; (for many a day Olympian letters went astray.)

The other maidens midst the mist, Where they stood silently unkissed, Saw nothing though they heard a sound Like rose leaves falling on the ground. The mist grew thin that had concealed The startled maid; she stood revealed With conscious blush and just below A budding branch of mistletoe.

And so the whole world came to know Of mist and maids and mistletoe.

Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been corrected in this version, but minor inconsistencies and archaic forms have been retained as printed.