Cap and Bells - Nad Sylvan

The jester walked in the garden

The garden had fallen still

He bade his soul rise upward

And stand on her window-sill

It rose in a straight blue garment

When owls began to call

It had grown wise-tongued by thinking

Of a quiet and light footfall

But the young queen would not listen

She rose in her pale night-gown

She drew in the heavy casement

And pushed the latches down

He bade his heart go to her

When the owls called out no more

In a red and quivering garment

It sang to her through the door

It had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming

Of a flutter of flower-like hair

But she took up her fan from the table

And waved it off on the air

'I have cap and bells,' he pondered

'I will send them to her and die'

And when the morning whitened

He left them where she went by

She laid them upon her bosom

Under a cloud of her hair

And her red lips sang them a love-song

Till stars grew out of the air

She opened her door and her window

And the heart and the soul came through

To her right hand came the red one

To her left hand came the blue

It had grown sweet-tongued by dreaming

Of a flutter of flower-like hair

But she took up her fan from the table

And waved it off on the air

They set up a noise like crickets

A chattering wise and sweet

And her hair was a folded flower

And the quiet of love in her feet