Dawn, gray, purple, gold! A wealth of beauty These moments hold. Butte faces peer from out the night; Pinnacles shimmer with coming light; Billowing miles stretch gray and green; Trees loom ghost-like in dewy sheen. Twitter and humming, A partridge's drumming, All Nature pulsate. Stream-flash And foam-dash, Grape-scent With muck blent, Streaming vines sweeping, Tendrils upcreeping, St! mark the watercourse, Beauty is there. Standing with a native grace, Pretty Elk averts her face. Parted lips and eyes aflame Tell the thought she dares not name. Soft his footstep, not a sound Is betrayed by the ground. Though she does not see nor hear Yet she knows her brave is near. Jauntily his arm he flings, As a screen his blanket swings. Sheltered thus and eye to eye, Once again Love's mystery. Here by sacred, living pool, Mid the shadows dark and cool, Deep in mossy, sunflecked glade, Tribal "woman's choice" is made. Shy again she turns her face; With a pretty woman's grace Steps out from the sheltering fold, Walks away calm, haughty, cold; While the lover, wrapt to heaven, Waits until a signal given Tells him that he may depart With the treasure of her heart. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE JAIN BIRD HOSPITAL IN DELHI by WILLIAM MEREDITH IN THE TRENCHES by RICHARD ALDINGTON FISH-LEAP FALL by ROBERT FROST LA NOCHE TRISTE by ROBERT FROST THE GARDEN OF ADONIS by EMMA LAZARUS THE GARDEN BY MOONLIGHT by AMY LOWELL BOYHOOD FRIENDS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS JOHN WILKES BOOTH AT THE FARM (JANUARY 12, 1848) by EDGAR LEE MASTERS |