The mirrored stars lit all the bulrush spears,
And all the flags and broad-leaved lily-isles;
The ripples shook the stars to golden smiles,
Then smoothed them back to happy golden spheres.
We rowed--we sang; her voice seemed, in mine ears,
An angel's, yet with woman's dearest wiles;
But shadows fell from gathering cloudy piles
And ripples shook the stars to fiery tears.
God shaped the shadows like a phantom boat
Where sate her soul and mine in Doom's attire;
Along the lily-isles I saw it float
Where ripples shook the stars to symbols dire;
We wept--we kissed, while starry fingers wrote,
And ripples shook the stars to a snake of fire.