Mathilde Blind

1841 - 1896 / Germany

Entangled

I STOOD as one enchanted,
All in the forest deep:
As one that wond'ring wanders,
Dream-bound within his sleep.

A thousand rustling footsteps
Pattered upon the ground;
A thousand whisp'ring voices
Made the wide silence, sound.

Some murmured deep and deeper,
Like waves in solemn seas;
Some breathèd sweet and sweeter,
Like elves on moon-lit leas.

Tall ferns, washed down in sunlight,
Beckoned with fingers green;
Tall flowers nodded strangely,
With white and glimm'ring sheen;

They sighed, they sang so softly,
They stretched their arms to me;
My heart, it throbbed so wildly,
In weird tumultuous glee.

I staggered in the mosses,
It seemed to drag me down
Into the gleaming bushes;
To fall, to sink, to drown.

When lo! thro' scared foliage,
A lovely bird did fly;
And looked at me so knowing,
With bright and curious eye;

It broke out into warbles,
And singing sped away;
But I, like one awakened,
Fled down the mossy way.
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