Silent before his friends. As first one bough
Whispers unto his fellow, in the wind,
Who, soft, repeats to those who neighbour him
Until the wood is filled with whisperings,
So they unto each other whispered there.
But Merow led me silent from the hall
Into the night, the company of stars
Innumerable, and of fragrant winds
Sweet with our secrets, murmuring delight....
How softly come these visions of the past!