Page:Veil other poems .djvu/86



n a dense wood, a drear wood,
 * Dark water is flowing;

Deep, deep, beyond sounding,
 * A flood ever flowing.

There harbours no wild bird,
 * No wanderer strays there;

Wreathed in mist, sheds pale Ishtar
 * Her sorrowful rays there.

Take thy net; cast thy line;
 * Manna sweet be thy baiting;

Time's desolate ages
 * Shall still find thee waiting

For quick fish to rise there,
 * Or butterfly wooing,

Or flower's honeyed beauty,
 * Or wood-pigeon cooing.

Inland wellsprings are sweet;
 * But to lips, parched and dry,

Salt, salt is the savour
 * Of these; faint their sigh.