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Enchantment (April - July 1939)
Along beside the unconcernéd brook,
There I wandered slowly in the noon-day,
My hurting thoughts so to my heart I took
That, blinded I cared not, nor saw the way
My feet did take; one crushing, bitter thought Pushed all else far from my mind.That I,
Who loved this strange, great life should now be brought
To live in empty endlessness, and why
Should one be picked from all the rest to bear What seemed to me to be, the whole world’s care? For then, too hurt with life was I, to know
That thoughts like these could in a moment go!
And yet they could, for thus it was with me. Only a touch had worked this miracle,
And forgetfulness came, and I was free –
A touch – or was it those eyes satirical?
I did not know those strange and fearful things (What bliss is young belief!) that now I know. For I know now that poor illusion brings,
For all its poorness, softening to the blow.
As I turned at a hand upon my arm,
With admiration, came momentary alarm.
He was young, but age was in those eyes: Henceforth I was to see through Earth’s disguise.
He pointed high, and round;
The greatest jewels of beauty showed to me; The music in the woodlands dreamy sound, The poetry in Earth’s reality;