  Stars above her, stars beneath, White she rose, as white as death, Where the waters glassed the splendor Of a thousand thousand stars, Twinkling where the lilies slender Rocked above the ripple-bars. Slow she oared a shining shoulder To a blossom-crested boulder. With slim fingers, long and milky, From the wave and water-lilies, Up the rock she drew her silky Beauty, wild as any rill is Flashing from a hilly height. Sitting, dripping in the night, Sweet she sang unto the lilies, Sang unto the listening lilies, Till arose the wool-white moon In the silken hush of heaven; Then she wreathed her brow with seven Lily-buds, all sweet with June; Belted, wreathed with lilies seven, Then again upon the boulder, Dark locks on a milk-white shoulder, Wild she sang; a wilder ditty To the wool-white moon; To the lilies and the moon: Beautiful and without pity, Sang, and sang an elfin tune; Till a youth, who wandered far, Saw her sitting like a star; Heard her singing to the moon; Found her sitting, starry white, On the flower-crested boulder, Dark locks on a milky shoulder, In the low moon's lilied light, 'Neath the wool-white moon.... And the creature wrapped her hair Round his white throat, sitting there Singing, smiled into his eyes, While she wrapped her raven hair Slowly round his throat; and then Laughed and whispered to the skies, Kissed him once and then again; Smiled; and left him stark and strangled In the water-lilies tangled, Staring up, with open eyes, At the moon with open eyes. |
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