Mathilde Blind

Here you will find the Poem Cleve Woods of poet Mathilde Blind

Cleve Woods

SWEET Avon glides where clinging rushes seem 
To stay his course, and, in his flattering glass, 
Meadows and hills and mellow woodlands pass, 
A fairer world as imaged in a dream. 
And sometimes, in a visionary gleam, 
From out the secret covert's tangled mass, 
The fisher-bird starts from the rustling grass, 
A jewelled shuttle shot along the stream. 

Even here, methinks, when moon-lapped shallows smiled 
Round isles no bigger than a baby cot, 
Titania found a glowworm-lighted child, 
Led far astray, and, with anointing hand 
Sprinkling clear dew from a forget-me-not, 
Hailed him the Laureate of her Fairyland.