BUTTERCUPS AND FERNS. 



What impulse stirs the feathery grasses, 

 And dips along their wavering line ? 



While, as the sudden tremor passes. 



Two strange, sweet eyes look up to mine! 



Eyes with a more than human pleading, 

 So poet-deep, so maiden-shy ; 



Till all my soul is drowned in gazing, — 

 O rare blue eye! 



My spirit-flower, my heaven-sent blossom, 



I held your secret in my hand, 

 I caught and clasped you to my bosom, 



I thought to see and understand : 

 O fatal haste ! thou hast undone me. 

 Yet, yet unsolved the mystery lies ; 

 They closed, and shut the wonder from me, 

 Those deep, dark eyes ! 



Elaine Goodale. 



