Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/154

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
148
POEMS.
Were gathered at her bidding into pools,And in the months of drought led forth again,In glimmering rivulets, to refresh the vales,Till the sky darkened with returning showers. So passed her life, a long and blameless life,And far and near her name was named with loveAnd reverence. Still she kept, as age came on,Her stately presence; still her eyes looked forthFrom under their calm brows as brightly clearAs the transparent wells by which she satSo oft in childhood. Still she kept her fairUnwrinkled features, though her locks were white.A hundred times had summer since her birthOpened the water lily on the lakes,So old traditions tell, before she died.A hundred cities mourned her, and her deathSaddened the pastoral valleys. By the brook,That bickering ran beside the cottage door
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.