THE STRANGER
Reading edition
In the woods as I did walk, Dappled with the moon's beam, I did with a Stranger talk, And his name was Dream.
Spurred his heel, dark his cloak, Shady-wide his bonnet's brim; His horse beneath a silvery oak Grazed as I talked with him.
Softly his breast-brooch burned and shone; Hill and deep were in his eyes; One of his hands held mine, and one The fruit that makes men wise.
Wondrously strange was earth to see, Flowers white as milk did gleam; Spread to Heaven the Assyrian Tree, Over my head with Dream.
Dews were still betwixt us twain; Stars a trembling beauty shed; Yet—not a whisper comes again Of the words he said.