IN the heart of the white summer mist lay a green little piece of the world; And the tops of the beeches were lost in the mist, and the mist ringed us round; All the low leaves were silvered with dew, and the herbage with dew was impearled; And the turmoil of life was but vaguely divined through the mist as a sound. In the heart of the mist there was warmth, for the soil full of sun was aglow, Like a fruit when it colors, -- and fragrance from flowers, and a scent from the soil; And a lamb in the grass, in the flowers, in the dew, nibbled, whiter than snow; And the white summer mist was a fold for us both against sorrow and toil. From the fields in the mist came a bleating, a sound as of longing and need: But the lamb from the grass in its little green heaven never lifted its head: It was innocent, whiter than snow; it was glad in the flowers, took no heed; But the sound from the fields in the mist made me grieve as for one that is dead. And behold! 't was a dream I had dreamed, and a voice made me wake with a start, Saying: "Hark! once again in the flesh shall ye twain live your life for a span; But since whiteness of snow is as nought in mine eyes without pity of heart, Lo! the lamb shall be born as a wolf, with a wolf's heart, but thou as a man!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FOR G. by WILFRID WILSON GIBSON CALDWELL OF SPRINGFIELD [JUNE 23, 1780] by FRANCIS BRET HARTE GLOTTO'S TOWER by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW CITY TREES by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY THE BURNING OF THE TEMPLE by ISAAC ROSENBERG A SUPPLEMENT OF AN IMPERFECT COPY OF VERSES OF MR. WILL. SHAKESPEARE'S by JOHN SUCKLING |