The Oxford Book of Canadian Verse
TransformedJohn Stuart Thomson (18691950)
’T
And I had gathered fleurs-de-lis for her;
And sought the dim wood where the fern leaves stir
To find an orchis, fringed and sweet and wet;
These in her simple joy she coyly set
Among her tresses;—but I knew her not;
Some passing wind a sylph or nymph had brought.
She led me to a green and shadowy grove,
Where fallow-deer, large eyed, did shyly rove;—
And on a bank of thyme we two did sit;
Words were forgotten; in her wide blue eyes
I read some symbol language, though my wit
Had passed away. I dwelt in Paradise.