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BATHING RHYME
Frothing rainbows round our feet—
O the cool shock sharp and sweet!
O the healing of the sea,
Clearer than it seemed to be!
Even clearer—lucent green
Like the eyes of some sea queen.
Looking through the water's shimmer
Can you see a moving glimmer
Whiter than the rippled sand,
White as snow—a beckoning hand?
Dive, and lo! it swings from sight,
Vanishing in broken light.
She is gone, but memories stay
And transfigure all the day;
In the waves' soft touch there lingers
Something of her cool white fingers;
Is that shell her gleaming throat,
That dark weed, her hair afloat? . . .
So her troubling beauty's power
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