But on the Naiad's nearing charms
Gazed amorous:—on locks of brown,
On melting eyes, and rubied lips,
Slim throats and dewy finger-tips.
He stooped; they caught him in their arms,
And held him fast, and drew him down.
Down, down, down, down,
Through the liquid deeps of the soundless well:
Down, down, down, down,—
How many fathom, ah! who can tell?
Away from the day and the starlit hours,
Away from the shadows, the birds, and the flowers;
Away from the fell and the spicy dell,
From the fountain's smile and the mountain's frown;
Down, down, down, down!
He tried to ascend, but the lithe arms enwound him;
He sought to escape, but the wily weeds bound him.
By pleasure's softening touches thrill'd—
The dainty wonders at his side—
He missed not tasks left unfulfill'd,
Nor heard despised honor chide;
And sinking slowly to the watery goal,
His visage shrank to match his ebbing soul.
