io6 HELEN ABBOTT MICHAEL 
“A cedar for many a year had stood along this path which 
tallied with the course of my vision across the enclosure. 
“The moon shone clear through leafy fringes of chestnut 
limbs. 
“Hopefully, I waited for some whispered message from 
Nature, to be transmitted to my ear. 
“No sound, a blank echoed in my soul, 
“ Only when I turned and looked upon a face I loved, framed 
as square in miniature as these trees, then a flood of gladness 
suffused my soul. That image stood for more than tree, — to 
me it meant a sentient thing.” 
Still another, in the free form which she liked so much, has 
a mystic pensiveness and pathos and a remarkable weirdness 
of imagery. It is entitled “ Full Moon.” 
The Moon shone bright and cold, 
The Moon’s bright course had run, 
And o’er the rim of yon dark hill 
Had spilt in flood of light 
Her orb’s excess. 
Hot the earth; Nature pants for breath, 
Looking upward to this bounteous guest 
Who spills thus her treasure-cup’s need, 
Drinks feverishly, lapping with Summer’s parched tongue 
Of her cool rays, 
Delusive draught, not life-giving, 
Bringing no living repose or rest. 
All leaf or tracery of limb and trunk was lost, 
Was lost in the transforming flood. 
The willows wept hot tears of living green; 
For, under branch and bough sprung one grand arch, 
And from it hung in showers of stone, 
Not as before, streams of living leaves, 
But heavy pendants unmoved by breeze; the very air was fixt. 
My fancy’s flight carried me to such a sight 
I once had seen, far under earth’s surface, 
Where drop by drop water rich in saline substance 
Had done for that place what moonlight did for this tree. 
The moon shone bright and cold, 
Cold, cold, its light did enter my soul, 
