An altered look about the hills A Tyrian light the village fills A wider sunrise in the morn A deeper twilight on the lawn A print of a vermilion foot A purple finger on the slope A flippant fly upon the pane A spider at his trade again An added strut in Chanticleer A flower expected everywhere An axe shrill singing in the woods Fern odors on untraveled roads All this and more I cannot tell A furtive look you know as well And Nicodemus' Mystery Receives its annual reply!