As with one hand she splashed her glistening breast,

Then waded up to her knee

And frothed the whole pool into a fairy storm!...

So, stooping through our skies, of old, there came

Angels that once could set this world's dark pool a-flame,

[Pg 20]

XI

From which the seas of faith have ebbed away,

Leaving the lonely shore too bright, too bare,

While mirrored softly in the smooth wet sand

A deeper sunset sees its blooms expand

But all too phantom-fair,

Between the dark brown rocks and sparkling spray

Where the low ripples pleaded, shrank and sighed,

And tossed a moment's rainbow heavenward ere they died.

XII

Stoop, starry souls, incline to this dark coast,

Where all too long, too faithlessly, we dream.

Stoop to the world's dark pool, its crags and scars,

Its yellow sands, its rosy harbour-bars,

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