THE FIRST MIST

Once Hermes paused in arrowy flight And while he hovered to alight, Beheld a winsome mortal maid; With other maids she danced and played; They all were fair; he thought this one The fairest thing beneath the sun. Then Hermes, like a golden gleam, Darted and dropped beside a stream; He called up from the water clear A naiad; in her dripping ear He whispered long and low, while she Nodded and chuckled pleasantly. She waved her hand; he flew away; A mist formed ’round the maids at play. Then flying Hermes did invade The thickening mist and kissed the maid, And flew reluctantly away With sighs and smiles; (for many a day Olympian letters went astray.) The other maidens midst the mist, Where they stood silently unkissed, Saw nothing though they heard a sound Like rose leaves falling on the ground. The mist grew thin that had concealed The startled maid; she stood revealed With conscious blush and just below A budding branch of mistletoe. And so the whole world came to know Of mist and maids and mistletoe.