THIS fountain bears its shaft of crystal up And shatters it against the hard blue sky; Splinters of light fall back; the fragments fly And spin and sink into their shallow cup. Like a bright lance borne straight with measured strength Of unseen hands against the armoured air, Again it rises, thin and sharp and fair— Again is shivered all its lifted length. And yet the sky shows never any mark; Flawless and smooth-enamelled move the days; But every night the pierced and ancient glaze Glitters where light leaks through the vaulted dark. |