Classic Poem

He sat alone, encumbered with his Gold
Alone beside the border of the lake,
And far across the water's shimmering bed
He saw a lady in a little boat,
A Lady lovely as a summer's dream,
Dreamed in the depths of mild full mooned night.

The lady waited till the middle night,
For she had fell designs upon his gold,
And meant to linger till he fell to dream,
Sleeping beside the border of the lake;
And then she planned to leave the little boat
And roll him down into a watery bed.

Little she recked of how that beauteous bed
Would claim her too, while the unhappy night
Looked down to see the drifting oarless boat,
The drifting moon-light on the piles of gold,
The drifting shadows on the level lake;
And all as vague and silent as a dream.

Soft stole she to him, noiseless as a dream,
But he rose up upon his glittering bed
And sat there like a lily on a lake,
And asked her if she'd like to spend the night
In sitting there by him to count his gold
Better than floating broadcast in a boat.

She answered him that she preferred the boat,
And begged him not to interrupt her dream,
Stating that she had only thought of gold
When tossing wearily upon her bed,
In indigestive watches of the night,
There in her lonely bower beside the lake.

But he maintained she ought to like the lake,
And softly beckoned her into the boat,
And drowned her in the middle of the night,
And then returned to dimly drowse and dream
There on the margin in his shining bed,
All lit and glimmering with plenteous gold.

Envoy

Sweet is much gold and sweet a lovely lake,
Better a lady in her bed than boat,
And the best dreams are those that fly by night.