Classic Poem

And straight he was aware
Of water in a hollow place, low down,
Where the thick sward shone with blue celandine,
And bright green maiden-hair, still dry in dew,
And parsley rich. And at that hour it chanced
The nymphs unseen were dancing in the fount—
The sleepless nymphs, reverenced of housing men,
Winning Eunica; Malis, apple-cheeked;
And, like a night-bedewed rose, Nichèa.
Down stepped the boy, in haste to give his urn
Its fill, and pushed it in the fount; when, lo!
Fair hands were on him—fair, and very fast;
For all the gentle souls that haunted there
Were drawn in love's sweet yearning tow'rds the boy;
And so he dropped within the darksome well—
Dropped like a star, that, on a summer eve,
Slides in ethereal beauty to the sea.