Part 2 — THE WATER LADY

Alas, the moon should ever beam To show what man should never see! I saw a maiden on a stream, And fair was she!

I stayed awhile, to see her throw Her tresses back, that all beset The fair horizon of her brow With clouds of jet.

I stayed a little while to view Her cheek, that wore, in place of red, The bloom of water, tender blue, Daintily spread.

I stayed to watch, a little space, Her parted lips if she would sing; The waters closed above her face With many a ring.

And still I stayed a little more: Alas, she never comes again! I throw my flowers from the shore, And watch in vain.

I know my life will fade away, I know that I must vainly pine, For I am made of mortal clay, But she's divine!

Thomas Hood [1799-1845]