The Satyr

There came a satyr creeping through the wood,
His hair fell on his breast, his legs were slim:
His eyes were laughing wickedly, he stood
And peeped about on every side of him.

He peeped about, he minced upon the ground,
He put a thin hand up to hide a grin:
He doubled up and laughed without a sound;
The very bodiment of happy sin.

The bodiment of sin: timid and wild
And limber as a goat: his pointed feet
Were not at peace an instant: like a child
He danced and glanced, and like a goat was fleet.

He danced, he peeped, but at a sound I made,
A crackling twig, he turned and suddenly
In three great jumps he bounded to the shade,
And disappeared among the greenery.

Songs From The Clay [1915]