Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/321

 To touch their hair they see not, neither fly; This would I see in heaven and not die. So praying, I had nigh cried out and knelt, So wholly my prayer filled me: till I felt In the dumb night's warm weight of glowing gloom Somewhat that altered all my sleeping-room, And made it like a green low place wherein Maids mix to bathe: one sets her small warm chin Against a ripple, that the angry pearl May flow like flame about her: the next curl Dips in some eddy coloured of the sun To wash the dust well out; another one Holds a straight ankle in her hand and swings With lavish body sidelong, so that rings Of sweet fierce water, swollen and splendid, fail All round her fine and floated body pale, Swayed flower-fashion, and her balanced side Swerved edgeways lets the weight of water slide, As taken in some underflow of sea Swerves the banked gold of sea-flowers; but she Pulls down some branch to keep her perfect head Clear of the river: even from wall to bed, I tell you, was my room transfigured so. Sweet, green and warm it was, nor could one know If there were walls or leaves, or if there was No bed's green curtain, but mere gentle grass. There were set also hard against the feet Gold plates with honey and green grapes to eat,