Page:Poems, Volume 2, Coates, 1916.djvu/58

42 But, Eros blest!—what marvel rare,

What more than mortal beauty there,

What coy, what wooing-sweet perfection

Entrancèd held him, bound as in a snare?

No need to urge him now to stay! . ..

Alas! he could not turn away,

But on the Naiad's nearing charms

Gazed amorous:—on locks of brown,

On melting eyes, and rubied lips,

Slim throats and dewy finger-tips.

He stooped; they caught him in their arms,

And held him fast, and drew him down.

Down, down, down, down,

Through the liquid deeps of the soundless well:

Down, down, down, down,—

How many fathom, ah! who can tell?

Away from the day and the starlit hours,

Away from the shadows, the birds, and the flowers;

Away from the fell and the spicy dell,

From the fountain's smile and the mountain's frown;

Down, down, down, down!

He tried to ascend, but the lithe arms enwound him;

He sought to escape, but the wily weeds bound him.