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.