Limber-limbed, lazy god, stretched on the
rock,
Where is sweet Echo, and where is your flock?
What are you making here? "Listen," said
Pan,--
"Out of a river-reed music for man!"
"UNDINE"
'Twas far away and long ago,
When I was but a dreaming boy,
This fairy tale of love and woe
Entranced my heart with tearful joy;
And while with white Undine I wept,
Your spirit,--ah, how strange it seems,
Was cradled in some star, and slept,
Unconscious of her coming dreams.