Weird And Beautiful

It caught me in a moment of pure surprise,
Springing out during my attention's ebb,
Bounding past my sun-dazzled eyes.
I caught a glimpse of a delicate web
Of wings on its back, and faery gaze
That pulled my mind into a daze.

What had it been? Springing roebuck?
No, I had never seen such eyes-
Tawny and wild as Lady Luck,
Golden as fortune, as sunrise-
In the face of such a common creature.
What animal had such a faery feature?

Through my mind paraded stories old,
From thoughts of a stray lynx,
Till- remembering those eyes of gold-
I almost thought I saw a Sphinx.
No; such things did not exist;
I was caught in fancy's mist.

"Then what the hell was it?" I muttered,
And peered into the thicket's briars
As if with answers they might be cluttered.
But they made of my intution liars.
Nothing but spines sharp they had.
The distraction almost made me glad.

It let me stop thinking about those eyes
That had burned into my mind,
And came with me like blue of skies,
Refusing to be left behind
When I came out of the wood,
And returned to my home good.


I lay that night in bed, and stared
At the wood of the roof in wonder.
What had that thing been? Who cared?
Why couldn't I let it go under
The maze of thoughts I had that day?
Why would those eyes not go away?

And then I heard a song in the forest,
Soft and faint at first, a shade.
But then it lifted in a silver chorus,
And thundered from glen to glade.
I stood up, as in a dream,
And turned my face to window's gleam.

But nothing saw I, though I peered long,
Started at shadows, faint thoughts chased.
I saw no source of that silver song,
And when morning came, I faced
A mystery great as the golden stare:
Whence had come that symphony fair?


And the mystery remains this day;
I stare at things from which others turn.
I chase things others let run away.
The mysteries of the world I cannot spurn,
No more than I could those eyes,
Or that song, should it now rise.

Should I again see that- thing,
Bounding away as if to carry
Away my answers to everything,
I would pursue it to Faery.
I would demand to learn the answers,
Though they came from elven dancers.

I never thought that I, myself,
Would feel the lure of the weird.
But I have felt the touch of elf,
And it is not half what I feared.
I cannot turn until I have my fill
Of things weird and beautiful.

I cannot turn until that golden gaze
Fades from out my inner sight.
It has been ten years since that daze
Both robbed me and gave me light.
I have turned to a trail I must follow,
Though it leads into the hills a-hollow;

Though it leads into the Faeryland
That has lain just beyond this path
Since the very earliest days of man.
I will hear the fairies laugh
If it means that I learn the name
Of what filled my head with flame,

Of the song that I heard that night,
Of the thing that sang in shade.
My pathway is laid across light,
Across shine and shadow is it laid.
Off I will speed, and speed until
I see all things weird and beautiful.