Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu/95

 Looking through the sunshot deep, Where our sea-maid lies asleep, Throat upflung, as white as lime, With the clear waves keeping time To the heaving of her breast— Here we see to veil her rest Every jewel-tint of green: Jade, smaragdus, tourmaline, Beryl and green sapphire's light, Streaky solid malachite, Chrysoprase and peacock-sheen Of the opal's shifting green— Patched and barred with purple dye Where the rocks like watch-dogs lie, Waiting crouched beneath the wave, Hungry, cruel as the grave. . ..

Colour floods our souls until They must brim and overspill,