How swift and smooth this water glinters past! The dark green mosses of its twinkling lane Are trailed like pennons fully unfurled, astrain: These shallows hold the boundless cloudland glassed. And often as you watch the surly blast Drives uncouth shadows in a darkening train Through the bright voiceless brook: far off they wane, Like phantom fishes, fleet and wild and vast. And some have found most strange and magical The fascination of a serpent's eye; But gloating on this water running by My tranced thought slumbers and my senses fall Like ebbing tides; and lulled, enchanted, all My spirit seems in readiness to die. |