Ii

On the road in the April wood, Under the oaks I stopped and stood, Watching the mole that stealthily heaved The soft loose clay of its barrow: The oaks above were auburn-leaved; And near me bloomed the yarrow; When down from a leaf a gray snail fell, Its long stilt-eyes thrust out of its shell: And I thought, "This color is worn of the fays, Whose fashion runs to dimmish grays: A snail-brown tunic each elfin eunuch Wears in the harem the Elf King keeps: And a snail-gray gown each fairy clown Dons when the elf dance whirls and leaps In the light of the moon on the upland down. A snail-shell house for his ouphen spouse Each elfin builds by the snail-white moon, Where his fairykin love he boards and beds, Under the dandelion's wisp-white heads, Where ever he pipes his cricket tune."