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.