We who beheld this sight were two, I swear, Pierre Lelong and I. Pierre, by nature far more sly than I, obtained the better view. At Haizettes, hard by my woods it was -- you must believe our fervent vows -- Pierre and I beheld him thus, dancing beneath the pear-tree boughs. Above, the mellow moon enhanced skies green with evening's waning light. The wizard, screeching as he danced, juggled with roses red and white, hurled them so high, so swift, despite the obstructing screen of boughs, that soon his garland reached heaven's cloudless height and seemed to wind about the moon. And we saw the moon -- though I attest Pierre Lelong observed it best -- into the pear-tree sink, and there sway like a ripe and luscious pear beneath three leaves its silver blanches; but at once the orb that gently rocked was croaked at, chanted at, and mocked, in the foliage on the fruited branches, by azure toads, fantastic things, girdled with scarlet, crowned with gold, as in Trees of Jesse you behold the seated effigies of kings. "My dog at the bishop's self may stare, at confirmation," quoth Pierre. "Profane observers though we be, let us approach, but warily, tiptoe." Our sorcerer deformed, who for a satyr might have posed, hump-backed, knock-kneed, with temples horned, a wild and noble head disclosed. His mantle was an eglantine where a myriad trembling blossoms twined. The dew in droplets crystalline rolled from his nape to his behind. And in the grass, his sabots through, his cleft hoofs plainly did appear. They were, these sabots shiny-new gleaming carbuncles glassy-clear. Now with a knife, as sharp as doom, he cut large slices from the moon, and, -- enigmatic stratagem -- among the toads divided them. Was it curiosity alone, or did we wish to have a share of that enormous summer moon, of that translucent, mammoth pear? a further step we hazarded. The faun, with swiftly lifted head, showed us two swelling tears. "'Tis plain the wizards are the gods that reign o'er poets. Kneel!" my comrade said. Mistake! For me the vision fled. Lelong beheld the faun aloof hanging beneath my cottage roof. "At first I took him for an ape," he said. "Nearby, was this a shape of smoke? . . . or clothes hung out to air? . . . Bah! nearer there was nothing there." We who beheld this sight were two, I swear, Pierre Lelong and I. Pierre obtained the better view, for Nature has no fox so sly. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WANDERINGS OF OISIN by WILLIAM BUTLER YEATS TO A MOUSE, ON TURNING HER UP IN HER NEST WITH THE PLOUGH by ROBERT BURNS VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN BY ALEXANDER SELKIRK by WILLIAM COWPER FIRST OF MAY by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH UNDOMESTICATED ANIMALS by BERTON BRALEY THE DREAMING MAN by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH ARISTOPHANES' APOLOGY; BEING THE LAST ADVENTURE OF BALAUSTION: PART 1 by ROBERT BROWNING THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: KING LIMOS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |