The Tryst

In curtain of the hazel wood,
From sunset to the clear-of-star,
An hour or more I feared, but stood--
My lover’s road was far.

Until within the ferny brake
Stirred patter feet and silver talk
That set all horror wide awake--
I fear the fairy folk ...

That bind with chains and change a maid
From happy smiling to a thing
Better in ground unhallowed laid
Where holy bells not ring.

And whether late he came or soon
I know not, through a rush of air
Along the white road under the moon
I sped, till the golden square

Showed of the blind lamplighted; then,
My hand on heart, I slackened, stood ...
Though Robin be the man of men,
I’ll walk no more that wood.