THE MOCKINGBIRD AT NIGHT by Paul Hamilton Hayne

A golden pallor of voluptuous light
Filled the warm southern night:
The moon, clear orbed, above the sylvan scene
Moved like a stately queen,
So rife with conscious beauty all the while,
What could she do but smile
At her own perfect loveliness below,
Glassed in the tranquil flow
Of crystal fountains and unruffled streams?
Half lost in waking dreams,
As down the loneliest forest dell I strayed,
Lo! From a neighboring glade,
Flashed though the drifts of moonshine, swiftly came
A fairy shape of flame.
It rose in dazzling spirals overhead,
Whence to wild sweetness wed,
Poured marvelous melodies, silvery trill on trill;
On the charmed trees to hearken; while for me,
Heart-trilled to ecstasy,
I followed - followed the bright shape that flew,
Still circling up the blue,
till as a fountain that has reached its height,
Falls back in sprays of light
Slowly dissolved, so that enrapturing lay,
Divinely melts away
Through tremulous spaces to a music-mist,
Soon by the fitful breeze
How gently kissed
Into remote and tender silences.

My blog’s recent poems come from a treasure-like collection called "Poems of Creatures Large and Small," 1991, by Avenel Books (div. of Random House), printed in Singapore. Better to ‘read’ nature than hear the big O’s words today in Normandy on the commemoration of D-day. Rudyard Kipling wrote in "The Ballad of the King’s Jest," that "Four things greater than all things are,- Women and Horses and Power and War." Kipling forgot to include the King, Obama.