In the Forest
Oscar Wild (1854--1900)

Out of the mid-wood's twilight
   Into the meadow's dawn,
Ivory limbed and brown- eyed,
   Flashes my faun!
He skips through the corpses singing,
   And his shadow dances along!
And I know not which I should follow?
   Shadow or song?
O Hunter, snare me his shadow!
O nightingale, catch me his strain!
Else moonstruck with music and
I think him in vain!