A Boundless Moment
He
halted
in
the
wind,
and
—
what
was
that
Far
in
the
maples,
pale,
but
not
a
ghost?
He
stood
there
bringing
March
against
his
thought,
And
yet
too
ready
to
believe
the
most.
"Oh,
that's
the
Paradise-in-bloom,"
I
said;
And
truly
it
was
fair
enough
for
flowers
had
we
but
in
us
to
assume
in
march
Such
white
luxuriance
of
May
for
ours.
We
stood
a
moment
so
in
a
strange
world,
Myself
as
one
his
own
pretense
deceives;
And
then
I
said
the
truth
(and
we
moved
on).
A
young
beech
clinging
to
its
last
year's
leaves.
