Her Soul Is Vague

Her soul is vague and shallow —
A thin uncertain stream
That trickles o'er the fallow,
Dim deserts of a dream.

It knows not rock nor mountain,
Nor cataract nor pool;
It bubbles from a fountain,
And loiters calm and cool.

It ripples not nor revels,
But lisps its lazy tunes,
Along the dusty levels,
Around the sandy dunes.

Across the plains of dreaming
I watch it twist and run —
A thread of silver gleaming
In a Sahara sun.
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