Classic Poem

In the dark beneath the earth
where no eye has ever probed,
silent streams of water slide
in a never-ending course.
The uppermost, surprised at last
by the rock-transpiercing steel,
limpid and ebullient spring
in a mighty plume of spray.
But the others deep in gloom
ever tortuously glide
in the unavailing quest
for vent, doomed to flow for ever.

To the sea the rivers wend,
in their shifting silver glass
mirroring the stars of heaven
or the pallid hues of dawn;
they are clad in veils of flowers,
naiads in their waters bathe,
they fecundate the fertile vales
and their waves are liquid song.

In the snowy marbled fountain
gay and playful the water as
a little girl in a royal palace
scattering her chains of pearls.
Now like a dark arrow it springs,
now feathers like an open fan;
it strews the leaves with diamonds
and lulls itself with murmured song.

In the sovereign sea the waves
beat on the precipitous rocks;
turbulent they shake the earth
and in tumult scale the skies.
There water is life and dauntless might,
there it is the ireful king,
it joins with heaven in equal strife
and contends with gods and monsters.

How different is the black wave
condemned to a perpetual prison,
it that dwells beneath the earth,
too deep even for the stark dead!
It that never felt the light,
it that never sobs nor sings,
it mute and known to none,
it blind and held a slave!

Even as it, known to none,
even as it, deep in gloom,
so are you likewise, you obscure
and silent waters of my soul.
Who has ever traced your course?
None pitying descends to look
upon you. And deep, deep down,
your captive silent flood extends.
Given outlet you would gush
like the bubbling waterspout
that rears its furious column of foam
higher than the pines and cedars.
But imprisoned you will never,
never know the light of day.
Roll on in the dark for ever,
silent waters of my soul!