Influences

When woods of home grow dark,
I grow dark too.
Images of strange power
Fill me and thrill me that hour,
Sombre of hue.

The woods of Dunsinane
I walk, and know
What storms did shake Macbeth,
That brought on Duncan’s death,
And his own woe.

Strange whispers chill the blood
Of evil breath;
Such rumours as did stir
Witch and foul sorcerer
On the lone heath.

No power have these on me;
I know too well
Their weakness to condemn.
Spring will exorcise them
With one bluebell.