The Pool

I O take me to your pool, O comfort me where your shadows lie soft across the waves.

II Will you not use your hand, Will you not bring your token? Will you not throw a grain, a pebble on the water?

III O it is dark here, O we are quiet now, and in the pool we are lost, in the shadow of reeds, we lie waiting, waiting. IV The water is green,
blow forth a lily,
a water-lily blown about the pool, dropped and rounded
upon the blue folds of the sky.

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