Page:The Soul of a Century.djvu/33



Early next morning a maiden arose, Bundled together her snow-white clothes. “Mother, I’m going to the lake To wash my clothes, ere day shall break.”

“Go not today to the edge of the water, Better stay home my child, my daughter. Last night I had an evil dream. Do not go near where the waters gleam.

I picked white pearls in my dream last night, Picked them for you and dressed you in white, In a sheer gown of watery foam. Do not go out my child; stay home!

A white dress portends that mourning is near; Each pearl conceals a bitter tear, And Friday is a luckless day; Go not my child, go not away.”

There is no peace for the restless daughter, Something attracts her to the water, Pulls her by force to the tempting lake, She lacks the strength the spell to break.

As soon as a kerchief she submersed With a crash and a roar, the foot-bridge burst, And yon where the maiden fell in, is left Only a seething, foaming depth.

Up from the bottom rolled a wave, Rings whirled about the watery grave. And on the swaying poplar tree A little green man clapped his hands in glee.

Ever mirthless, ever sad Are these watery lands, Where beneath the lotus leaves The gleaming fishes dance.

Here the bright sun never shines, A warm wind never blows; Cold and silent, as a grief In a heart that weary grows.