Page:Bridge of Fire.djvu/43



with whom I dallied
 * Through all the hours of noon,—

Sweet water-boy, more pallid
 * Than any watery moon;

Above thy body turning
 * White lily-buds were strewn:

Alas, the silver morning,
 * Alas, the golden noon!

Alas, the clouds of sorrow,
 * The waters of despair!

I sought thee on the morrow,
 * And never found thee there.

Since first I saw thee splendid,
 * Since last I called thee fair,

My happy ways have ended
 * By waters of despair.

The pool that was thy dwelling
 * I hardly knew again,

So black it was, and swelling
 * With bitter wind and rain.