CHAPTER 1. DAWNCHILD
The rising sun came stealing,
Graceful as a sylph of air
Stroking birdsong from the boughs
Nine clustered finches shared
Strung like charms of feathered blossom
By illusion’s careful shade
Risen chorus of the morning
Soon to swell and swift to fade.
In this brilliant-plumaged morning
Where the world was young again
Nathaniel slept beside the river
By the wide and spreading plane
Weary limbs and sorry purse
Had led him to this gentle place
Dreamless sleep in his exhaustion
Offered him forgetful grace.
Laughter woke him to the dewtime
Bubbled from a merry child
Nathaniel woke to see her watching
Clothed in flowers, bright and wild,
She perched beside him on the grass
Then leapt to chase a thistle seed,
The young man watched her for a little
Half amused and quite intrigued.
He asked her gently if her mother
Knew that she was playing there
Her daisied garments, light and fine
Seemed to flow from tendrilled hair
Laughter was her only answer
As she blew a fairy clock,
Dancing with the breath of dawn
In chorus with the plane-tree flock.
“Hello?” Nathaniel called, in trouble,
“Is there anyone with you?”
The merry dawnchild, imp of nature
Sipped a cloverleaf of dew.
And then she vanished with the finches
Laughter fading into light
While Nathaniel stood perplexed
And wondered at her sudden flight.
Chapter 2. Maid of the Morning