SHE is standing at the gate, Tall and sweet, And although the hour be late She will greet Me, her lover, Smiling over Absent mind and tardy feet. `Rest,? I?ll say to her, `and more rest,? As she wraps her love around me, And I?ll tell her of the forest, Of the strange, fear-haunted forest Where the fleshless beings found me. For I trod a rock-strewn rude way Thinking only of my lover, When the moonlight on the woodway, Made a weird-way of the woodway, And a place where demons hover. For the leaves that had been sleeping On the sodden soil-bed lying, Look a motion and ?gan creeping, Like a thousand small feet creeping, And there rose a distant sighing. Why the trees did droop their tresses, Weeping leaves for something under, And what bode in dim recesses, Feline-lurked in dim recesses, Paled my cheeks and heart to ponder. Had I feet I would have hurried, But the moonlit forest chained me, Soul and body grasped and worried, With frost-fingers gripped and worried, Till, half-stayed, my hurt heart pained me.? `Rest,? I?ll say, `my Love, and more rest; Things unseen have life and motion And they haunt the moonlit forest? Soul-affronting haunt the forest, And men meet them on the ocean.? She will look so grave and kind, Saying `Rest? Rest is here for heart and mind On this breast? Put aside all Fancies idle, I will shield you?Love is best.?