Gross, sensual faces herded; and then you
With magical wide eyes came. Eyes that kept
The mirth of dews at dawn in them, and slept
To the tumult of the street. They held the blue,
Sweet, flowering spaces under pines; and knew
Cropped lawns, where naked dryads dancing leapt
To the clash of golden cymbals, while there crept
Furtively on white bellies through the dew,
To glut on grace, ambiguous fauns, whose eyes
Burned glittering with desire: until the horn
Of the moon turned ashen; and through the still trees
The lithe shapes feed: and dawn brimmed up the skies
With winey gold, and walked upon the corn;
And murmuring through the vines came gleaming bees.