Oriental Scenes, Dramatic Sketches and Tales/The Naiad

by Emma Roberts

THE NAIAD.

She comes to bless me like a dream,
    As with an arrow's flight,
I see her gliding down the stream
    Of melted chrysolite.

Her glittering hair of wavy gold
    Is bound with lilies pale,
And wreathed in many a sunny fold,
    Floats round her like a veil.

Her large and tender eyes of blue
    Glance upwards, filled with love,
Their sapphire beams come flashing through
    The crystal wave above.

Blended with molten pearl, the rose
    In all its warmest blush,
On her fair cheek enamoured glows
    With ever-changing flush.

She wears a smile of heavenly birth,
    As one untouched by care,
Who never felt the ills of earth,
    And knows not what they are.

And swiftly as she glides along
    That wave so bright and clear,
Each breeze the sedgy banks among
    Makes music in her ear.

And thus she spends the summer day,
    Rejoicing in its light;
But oh! how fleetly melts away
    When steals the shrouding night.

Beneath the moon's soft silvery rays
    I watch the stream in vain,
But with the sun's meridian blaze
    She comes! she comes again!