It was a day of sun and rain, <br /> Uncertain as a child's swift moods; <br />And I shall never spend again <br /> So blithe a day among the woods. <br /> <br />Was it because the Gods were pleased <br /> That they were awful in our eyes, <br />Whom we in very deed appeased <br /> With barley-cakes of sacrifice? <br /> <br />The forest knew her and was glad, <br /> And laughed for very joy to know <br />Her child was with her; then, grown sad, <br /> She wept, because her child must go. <br /> <br />And Alice, like a little Faun, <br />Went leaping over rocks and ferns, <br />Coursing the shadow-race from dawn <br /> Until the twilight-flock returns. <br /> <br />And she would spy and she would capture <br /> The shyest flower that lit the grass; <br />The joy I had to watch her rapture <br /> Was keen as even her rapture was. <br /> <br />The forest knew her and was glad, <br /> And laughed and wept for joy and woe. <br />This was the welcome that she had <br /> Among the woods of Fontainebleau.<br /><br />Arthur Symons<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/at-fontainebleau/
