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