Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.
Michael FieldIris
Field-MT
In the air it was stiller than snow,
There was even light through the vale,
But a vaporous sheet
Clung about my feet,
And I dared no further go.
I had passed the pond, I could see the stile,
The path was plain for more than a mile,
Yet I dared no further go.
A noiseless music began to blow,
A music that moved through the mist,
That had not begun,
Would never be done,—
With that music I must go:
And I found myself in the heart of the tune,
Wheeling around to the whirr of the moon,
With the sheets of the mist below.
Strange, little hands that I did not know:
I did not think of the elvan bands,
Nor of anything
In that whirling ring—
Here a cock began to crow!
The little hands dropped that had clung so tight,
And I saw again by the pale dawnlight
The iris-heads in a row.