207
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.
