Page:Carroll - Three Sunsets.djvu/53

STOLEN WATERS. My soul was dead, my tongue was mute,
 * In that accursed hour.

And, in my dream, with silvery voice,
 * She said, or seemed to say,

"Youth is the season to rejoice—"
 * I could not choose but stay:
 * I could not say her nay.

She plucked a branch above her head,
 * With rarest fruitage laden;

"Drink of the juice, Sir Knight," she said:
 * Tis good for knight and maiden."

Oh, blind mine eye that would not trace—
 * Oh, deaf mine ear that would not heed—

The mocking smile upon her face,
 * The mocking voice of greed!

I drank the juice; and straightway felt
 * A fire within my brain:

My soul within me seemed to melt
 * In sweet delirious pain.

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