Explore "Silverpoints" by John Gray on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
There was the summer. There / Warm hours of leaf-lipped song, / And dripping amber sweat. / O sweet to see / The great trees condescend to cast a pearl / Down to the myrtles; and the proud leaves curl / In ecstasy.
Fruit of a quest, despair. / Smart of a sullen wrong. / Where may they hide them yet? / One hour, yet one, / To find the mossgod lurking in his nest, / To see the naiads' floating hair, caressed / By fragrant sun.