Malua

Out of the purple treasuries of night
Came the dark wind of evening silver-starred--
Stirred on his cheek. The forest keeping ward
Breathed with a tremulous silence, and the bright,
Bare moon crowned his adoring brow with light.
The exquisite dream of beauty held him hard
In a great love, a forest love, unmarred--
Still unprofaned--by human nature's sight.

Guarding the temple gates of peace he stood,
Statue of bronze with pagan heart of stone.
Sudden, a dazzling glory lit the wood--
Moon in his soul that dimmed the moon above.
Life was revealed, a Spring-sweet maid, alone--
Beauty was woman, and the woman--Love.