living water-sprite drawing my wits from me, stilling my heart, till I
was very near plunging into that crystal oblivion, to be fishes
evermore.

But my fingers still grasped my friend's kind elf-locks, and her
goose-nose brooded beside mine upon that water of undivulged delight.
Out of the restless silence of the stream floated this long-drawn
singing:

Pilgrim forget; in this dark tide
Sinks the salt tear to peace at last;
Here undeluding dreams abide,
All sorrow past.

Nods the wild ivy on her stem;
The voiceless bird broods on the bough;
The silence and the song of them
Untroubled now.

Free that poor captive's flutterings,
That struggles in thy tired eyes,
Solace its discontented wings,
Quiet its cries!

Knells now the dewdrop to its fall,
The sad wind sleeps no more to rove;
Rest, for my arms ambrosial
Ache for thy love!

I cannot think how one so meekened with hunger as I, resisted that