Where the shy fawns, the pretty fawns, the deer,
With mild brown eyes shall view her spirit's husk;
The sleeping woman of her will appear,
The maiden Dian shining through the dusk.
And, when the stars are white as twilight fails,
And the green leaves are hushed, and the winds swoon,
The calm pure thrilling throats of nightingales
Shall hymn her sleeping beauty to the moon.
All the woods hushed--save for a dripping rose,
All the woods dun--save where a glow-worm glows.