SAID the dairymaid With her hooped petticoat Swishing like water . . . To the hemlocks she said, "Afraid Am I of each sheep and goat -- For I am Pan's daughter!" Dark as Africa and Asia The vast trees weep -- The Margravine learned as Aspasia, Has fallen asleep. Her small head, beribboned With her yellow satin hair, Like satin ribbons, butter-yellow, That the faunal noon has made more mellow Has drooped asleep . . . And a snore forlorn Sounds like Pan's horn. On pointed toe I creep -- Look through the diamonded pane Of the window in the dairy -- Then out I slip again, In my hooped petticoat like old Morgane the fairy. Like a still-room maid's yellow print gown Are the glazed chintz buttercups of summer Where the kingly cock in a feathered smock and a red-gold crown Rants like a barn-door mummer. And I heard the Margravine say To the ancient bewigged Abbe "I think it is so clever Of people to discover New planets -- and how ever Do they find out what their names are?" Then, clear as the note of a clarinet, her hair Called Pan across the fields, Pan like the forlorn wind, From the Asian, African darkness of the trees in his lair -- To play with her endless vacancy of mind! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TOWARD THE GULF; DEDICATED TO THEODORE ROOSEVELT by EDGAR LEE MASTERS ON A BOY'S FIRST READING OF THE PLAY OF 'KING HENRY THE FIFTH' by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL LOUSE HUNTING by ISAAC ROSENBERG ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 52 by PHILIP SIDNEY MY PICTURE-GALLERY by WALT WHITMAN RODGERSON'S DOUG by WILLIAM AITKEN |