You piped me to the greenwood, And there, when grace was said, We brake and ate together The fairy’s secret bread.
Oh then my ears were opened And magically I heard The small leaves talk together, The gossip of a bird.
Bewitched? There is no telling: But always, till I’m dead, I’ll hear your silver piping And eat your fairy bread.
THE JUDAS TREE
WINTER to my tree has lent Beauty clean and innocent, Here no purple flowers blow, But crystal blossoms of the snow, Every crooked bough is set With starry petals delicate.
Judas flung the silver down, And hanged himself beyond the town: Spring returns. The traitor blood Quickens in each scarlet bud. Frost and snow remember not— Mercy on Iscariot.