Narcissus (second version)

O pool in which we dallied
And splashed the prostrate Noon !
O Water-boy, more pallid
Than any watery moon !

O Lilies round him turning !
O broken Lilies, strewn !
O silver Lutes of Morning !
O Red of the Drums of Noon !

O dusky-plumaged sorrow !
O ebon Swans of Care —
I sought thee on the Morrow,
And never found thee there !

I breathed the vapour-blended
Cloud of a dim despair :
White lily, is it ended ?
Gold lily — oh, golden hair !

The pool that was thy dwelling
I hardly knew again,
So black it was, and swelling
With bitter wind and rain.

'Mid the bowed leaves I lingered,
Lashed by the blast of Pain,
Till evening, storm-rose-fingered,
Beckoned to night again.

There burst a flood of Quiet
Over the unstelled skies ;
Full moon flashed out a-riot :
Near her I dreamt thine eyes

Afloat with night, still trembling
With captured mysteries :
But sulphured wracks, assembling,
Redarkened the bright skies.

Ah, thou at least art lying
Safe at the white nymph's feet,
Listless, while I, slow-dying,
Twist my gaunt limbs for heat !

Yet I'll to Earth, my Mother :
So, boy, I'll still entreat
Forgive me — for none other
Like Earth is honey-sweet !