THE DIVER

Self-loving I strayed Through leagues of fir-wood— Dream-like as woods In water suspended, So hushed was the shade, So cool the silence; Nor stayed, till I saw My watery woodlands In a deep tarn Hanging head-downward, As though they would draw The soul down after them. I thought: How sweet To bathe in those waters! I stripped myself bare; On the pine-needles I settled my feet, And dived in fearless To greet with the glow Of an ardent lover That limpid depth, That bride-bed of stillness Which far below Awaited my coming. O, but beneath The rocky cornice, Ready to pounce There lurked a Nixy! With ice-cold teeth She bit and tore me, And wreathed her fierce Embraces about me In coil on coil Of anguish unspeakable, And snarled in my ears With a voice of darkness. In fear of my life I fought the Nixy Till back to her den At last I drove her; To whet her knife And await the next-comer. Dry-footed on shore I scrunched the pine-needles, And watched the tarn And its basking tree-tops Resume once more Their lovely stillness: All, all like a charm Inveigled the spirit; Prompted: How sweet To bathe in these waters Here is no harm— But I knew better.