Classic Poem

Leaves of the Nenuphars and silken skirts the same pale green,
On flower and laughing face alike the same rose-tints are seen;
Like some blurred tapestry they blend within' the lake displayed:
You cannot part the leaves from silk, the lily from the maid.
Only when sudden voices swell
Do maidens of their presence tell.

Here long ago the girls of Sou, the darlings of the King,
Dabbled their shining skirts with dew from the gracious blooms of Spring.
When to the lake's sun-dimpled marge the bright
Procession wends,
The languid lilies raise their heads as though to greet their friends;
When down the river-banks they roam,
The white moon-lady leads them home.