Who art thou?, asked the guardian of the night.
From crystal purity I come, was my reply,
And great my thirst, Persephone.
Yet heeding thy decree, I take to flight,
And turn, and turn again, forever right.
I spurn the pallid cypress tree,
Seek no refreshment at its sylvan spring,
But hasten on towards the rustling river-
Of Namozine, wherein I drink to sweet satiety.
And there, dipping my palms between
The knots and loopings of its mazy stream,
I see again, as in a drowning swimmer's dream,
All the strange sights I ever saw,
And even stranger sights no man has ever seen.
As I Dream