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And when the sunset reddened on our woods, I came upon a pathway fringed with ferns, That led through brushwood to a little dell, All dreamy with its stillness 'mid the hills. Through sundered crags, half clothed with tangled growth, My brook had slipped, and, with a little fall, Plashed lightly down, and stole before me there, A silver serpent, flashing back the beams That slanted eastward from the lingering sun. (Lillian Gray: a Poem - Agusta Webster - 1864) |
 MIDSUMMER MAGIC Tira Brandon-Evans © 2009 |
