I.
I saw the maiden morn go forth, and her steps were soft and still,
To load her golden pitcher at the sun~fount on the hill;
And as she bow’d her meekly down, the bridegroom of the day
Stole by, and with his fiery breath kiss’d
Night’s dew-tears away.
II.
I saw the maiden yet again, but her looks were proud and high,
And scarce earth’s bossy shield could bear the fire-darts of the sky;
And the bridegroom lay beside her, his giant limbs outspread,
Far in their noontide slumber, on his azure-banner’d bed.
III.
I saw the maiden yet again, but her feet were hurrying on,
As ’twere some hooded pilgrim, ere yet his journey's done;
Quench’d was the sunlight of her eye, and the dews hung on her breast,
While evening flung her purple scarf thwart the shadow’d west.
IV.
I saw the maiden once again, and as she pass’d in flight,
The moon with many a sister star came dancing into sight;
And sadly soft on spirit wings, as the vision roll’d away,
Fell down the night’s dark curtain on the chambers of the day!
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Alsager Hay Hill.