Saturday, May 3, 2008

Poem for Today

Pan and Psyche, Edward Burne-Jones, 1872-74


by Edna St. Vincent Millay

Doubt no more that Oberon
Never doubt that Pan
Lived, and played a reed, and ran
After nymphs in a dark forest,
In the merry, credulous days,
Lived, and led a fairy band
Over the indulgent land!
Ah, for in this dourest, sorest
Age man's eye has looked upon,
Death to fauns and death to fays,
Still the dog-wood dares to raise
Healthy tree, with trunk and root
Ivory bowls that bear no fruit,
And the starlings and the jays
Birds that cannot even sing
Dare to come again in spring!

Oberon, Sarah Mallabar, 1994


  1. The poem and pictures transported me to an enchanted forest...however did you come up with combining all these elements to form a remarkably ethereal post like this?

    No wonder your blog is a daily 'must see' for so many people.

    You have the 'golden touch'.

  2. And I must read Edna St Vincent Millay! Am an ardent Emily Dickinson fan. See you later. Eleanor

  3. Love the Burne-Jones:-)...

    I need to read more EVM...Have a lovely weekend.

  4. are quite remarkable in your knowledge of lovely poetry..I know so little of the King of Fairie Oberon, I had to do a little research..It led me to fascinating reading of which I need much more time to enjoy, and have on my list of things I want to do......Beautiful post as usual...

  5. Oberon, with an acorn in his ear and oak leaves for hair-lovely!

    Obviously, you are in a dreamy mood today.

  6. Mmmmmmmmm... such a dreamy post. I love Burne-Jones and have his Golden Staircase framed in my living room. That he was William Morris' close friend endears him to me. I've got to get me some St. Vincent Millay - you quote such wonderful ones! Thank you Willow. :)

  7. So many great posts to catch up on Willow - like the new photo on your profile!

    First your 'ghost story', quite exciting and I love the stairway 'she' uses. Have you given her a name?

    The lilacs - so gorgeous - I miss being able to grow them here in the southeast. In 'olde Englande' we had several beauties in our garden. In New England they surrounded the building where I worked and the perfume was amazing. On Mackinac Island when we visited for the Lilac Festival they were fabulous. Here they just die from the heat and humidity - and I almost join them, I truly dislike hot weather and, like you, am always wishing I could move North again.

    Cotton jammies - yes! Red toesies, me too! Love the Burne-Jones, also his 'Mirror of Venus'; 'The Golden Stairs'; 'Beatrice'; and the Boticelli-like 'The Garden of the Hesperides' - all those fabulous draped gowns and redheads

    Thanks for all you share Willow - and for your generous comments. Hope the rain has stopped and the sun is shining.

  8. Lavinia, thank you! Glad you enjoyed the enchanted forest. ;)

  9. DeeDee, thank you!

    I know, me too...too many books...too many blogs...too little time.

  10. Thank you, Mary! :D

    We think the ghost's name is Laura, the woman who died here at Willow Manor.

  11. how nice! Preraphaelites painters have always been some of my favorites

    It is bedtime here and I will sure have enchanted dreams !

    Have a great week end at Willow Manor


  12. I love it.... you've got to start working for a magazine...historical or discovery or something... you need more exposure!

  13. There are so many wonderful surprises on your blog for us who have the same interests. I've never read this poem, but my mother first read me the story when I was ver little.

  14. Art, design and poetry and photography don't get much better than this post. Nice work. I enjoyed it.

  15. Bachelor, David and Abe.

    Thank you!

    Your comments are SO very kind. I am honored that talented men, such as yourselves, are enjoying my little blog. :)

    Hope you are enjoying your weekends.

  16. Hi Willow. Caught your link from Tumbleweed's. You have a beautiful blog. It makes me feel like I truly have stepped into a manor.


Inject a few raisins of conversation into the tasteless dough of existence.
― O. Henry (and me)