Oaks and a water. By the water—eyes,
Ice-green and steadfast as cold stars; and hair
Yellow as eyes deep in a she-wolf's lair;
And limbs, like darkness that the lightning dyes.
The humped oaks stand black under iron skies;
The dry wind whirls the dead leaves everywhere;
Wild on the water falls a vulture glare
Of moon, and wild the circling raven flies.
Again the power of this thing hath laid
Illusion on him: and he seems to hear
A sweet voice calling him beyond his gates
To longed-for love; he comes; each forest glade
Seems reaching out white arms to draw him near—
Nearer and nearer to the death that waits.