WHERE the minnows trace
A glinting web quick hid in the gloom of the brook,
When I think of the place
And remember the small lad lying intent to look
Through the shadowy face
At the little fish thread-threading the watery nook–
It seems to me
The woman you are should be nixie, there is a pool
Where we ought to be.
You undine-clear and pearly, soullessly cool
The pool for my limbs to fathom, my soul’s last school.
Ventured so long ago in the deeps of reflection.
Broke the bounds and beyond!–Dim recollection
Soundlessly moving in heaven’s other direction!
Undine towards the waters, moving back;
A pool! Put off the soul you’ve got, oh lack
Your human self immortal; take the watery track.