As the white sails of ships across the ocean,
The last sounds fade when the sun has declined.
I am alone. There is no motion
Rippling the clear waters in the mind.
Only now the madrepores’ frail tentacles
Sway languidly before they fall asleep;
And waiting in their dark pinnacles
The virgin medusae watch and weep.
Moving darkly among the forests of weed
Ancient memories drag their crinkled shells
To glades where crimson tree-trunks bleed
Thickly, and hushed are the faint sea-bells.
Out of that silent depth loveless arising
Undine sheds on the water her shining hair,
Softly calleth her soul, devising
A fragrance of music in the air.