This page has been validated.
196
ANNIVERSARY POEM.
XXV.
The moon came up that eve, full-orbed and fair—
That sovereign Cleopatra,—ruling Night,
And dropping ever in his loving sight
Her threaded pearls adown the wine-like air:
Half undissolved they sank through shadows gray,
Embroidered Mo-no-sha-sha's robe of spray,
And caught in Deh-ga-ya-sol's silver snare.
The moon came up that eve, full-orbed and fair—
That sovereign Cleopatra,—ruling Night,
And dropping ever in his loving sight
Her threaded pearls adown the wine-like air:
Half undissolved they sank through shadows gray,
Embroidered Mo-no-sha-sha's robe of spray,
And caught in Deh-ga-ya-sol's silver snare.
XXVI.
All night we heard the river-cataracts pour:
Their ceaseless timbrels smote the ear of sleep;
Till all our dreams, like waves that landward sweep,
Were wild and voluble with naiad-lore:
And we were reft of rest, and seemed to be
Kuhleborns and Undines, dripping with the sea,
Or knights and ladies drenched upon the shore.
All night we heard the river-cataracts pour:
Their ceaseless timbrels smote the ear of sleep;
Till all our dreams, like waves that landward sweep,
Were wild and voluble with naiad-lore:
And we were reft of rest, and seemed to be
Kuhleborns and Undines, dripping with the sea,
Or knights and ladies drenched upon the shore.
XXVII.
Surely the water-witches tricked us well!
When the carved cuckoo made the morning hours
Finish their rounds with song, mid falling showers,
Surely the water-witches tricked us well!
When the carved cuckoo made the morning hours
Finish their rounds with song, mid falling showers,
