Tale of Archais

12 THE TALE OF ARCHAIS She lay within the water, and the sun Made golden with his pleasure every one Of small cool ripples that surround her throat, Mix with her curls, and catch the hands that float Like water-lilies on the wave ; she lay And watched the silver fishes leap and play, And almost slept upon the soughing breast That murmured gentle melodies of rest, And touched her tiny ear, and made her dream Of sunny woods above the sacred stream Where she abode (her home was cool and dark That no small glow-worm with his tender spark Might lighten till the moon was down, a nook Far from the cool enticements of the brook, And hidden in the boskage close and green.) So dreamed she, smiling like a faëry queen ; So the bright feet and forehead of the breeze Lured her to sleep, and shook the morning trees Clear of the dewfall, and disturbed the grass, So that no rustle, should a serpent pass, Might rouse her reverie. So then, behold, Chance leant from Heaven with feet and face of gold, And hid the iron of her body bare With such warm cloudlets as the morning air