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Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE POOL, by EDWARD DOWDEN Poet's Biography
First Line: A wood obscure in this man's haunt of love
Last Line: The brink, nor sheds a tear now, is his wraith.
Subject(s): Lakes; Pools; Ponds
First Line: A wood obscure in this man's haunt of love
Last Line: The brink, nor sheds a tear now, is his wraith.
Subject(s): Lakes; Pools; Ponds
A wood obscure in this man's haunt of love,
And midmost in the wood where leaves fall sere,
A pool unplumbed; no winds these waters move,
Gathered as in a vase from year to year.
And he has thought that he himself lies drowned,
Wan-faced where the pale water glimmereth,
And that the voiceless man who paces round
The brink, nor sheds a tear now, is his wraith.
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