Fairy Tale 2

Now folds the Tree of Day its perfect flowers,

And every bloom becomes a bud again,

Shut and sealed up against the golden

Of bees that hover in the velvet hours….    Now a

Wild and mournful blown from shadow towers,

Echoed from shadow ships upon the foam,

Proclaims the Queen of Night.    From their

The dark Princess fluttering, wing their

To their old Mother, in her huge old home.