When She Draws Near

I

When she draws near,
I seem to hear
The shy approach of some wild innocence:
As if--in acorn crown--
A dryad should step down
From some dim oak-tree where the woods are dense.

II

When she’s with me,
I seem to see
The brambles blossom where just touched her dress:
As, with her love’s perfume,
She touches into bloom
The thorns of life and gives them loveliness.