"Folk-Lore And Folk-Song"

The enshrined
In folk-lore
And folk-song,
And all that
Which belonged:

Whether how to tell a tale,
Or how to sing a song.

Play the violin,
Or should it be called a fiddle?

Standing alone
On a strange,
Shimmering-
Ghostly afternoon:

Taking in mentally already,
The mysteries of the coming night...

With the rising of the moon,
Very full-

And somewhere,
I can feel-

The wolfsbane's in bloom...

Soon it will be twilight.