Sailing blossoms, silver fishes,

Paven pools as clear as air—

How a child wishes

To live down there!

We can see our coloured faces

Floating on the shaken pool

Down in cool places,

Dim and very cool;

Till a wind or water wrinkle,

Dipping marten, plumping trout,

Spreads in a twinkle

And blots all out.

See the rings pursue each other;

All below grows black as night,

Just as if mother

Had blown out the light!

24

24

Patience, children, just a minute—

See the spreading circles die;

 Prev. P 51/379 next