THE RETURN OF THE FAIRY: 16. THE DANCE by HUMBERT WOLFE

THEN still in her dream
she held out her hand,
as they do when they dance
in fairyland.
And, though nobody took it,
she moved to the tune
elves play on the harp
(but the strings are the moon)
on the lawns of the margins
untrodden, that gleam
at the edge of the world and
the edge of the dream,
when the Court of the Fairies
on Midsummer's Eve
renew their enchantments,
and swayingly weave
the dance of oblivion, of
final release,
the promise in silver of
death's perilous peace.
She danced in the moon, as
wind-tossed in a meadow
a single narcissus will dance
with her shadow.
And she saw, as she danced,
the lattices glimmer,
where clematis climbs in
a different summer.

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