Charles E. Burchfield (1893-1967)

The Centaur—
“Watching a shadow circle an oak”—
The god-like man roams the pre-Autumnal woods pure in heart and body—
He is full of virgin—
his sexual impulses are pure; he dreams of his union with his mate under some giant chestnut tree at evening time—
The late August shower has washed the valley – the habitation of mortals are left far behind – there is a sweet sadness about twilight—
He enters the deep woods where it already black night – he is swallowed up in the black obscurity

(I can’t remember the name of the author of the “Centaur”)