Arachne. No. 2
Sweet water bear my body down
The river like an Autumn leaf,
And in your willow murmur drown
My too intelligible grief.
Oh let your reed thin voice imply
The sadness of forsaken girls
Whose lips were lovely as the sky
And rounded as the river curls.
Sweet waters slow to singing turn
My little cry of human shame,
And let my deep-drowned body learn
Your beauty, virgin as a flame.