The gibbous moon has gorged upon the dark; Now, hunched against the stars, it crabs its way To call your forest children to this path; Pale horns disguise me, guide me in their play. Into the roaring dance these hearts are swept, Within their rings I see what I am meant To see: you come again, with foiling steps, Your paths still changing, still as they were dreamt. Close weave the fir and apple as you bathe, Full limbs a knowing promise to my sight; The hunt bells far and soft, my grey-eyed maid, You rise, a watered edge across the night. At the end of darkness here we cease, And find each other's danger all our peace.
 
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