Classic Poem

Sings a maiden by a river,
Sings and sighs alternately;
In my heart shall flow for ever,
Like a stream, her melody.
In her hair of flaxen hue
Tend'rest buds and blossoms gleam;
And her beauty glows as through
Hazy splendours of a dream.
Like her melody's rich bars —
Or a golden flood of stars, —
Rustling like a summer rain,
Through her fingers falls the grain,
Swells her voice in such sweet measure,
I must join for very pleasure;
But my lay shall be of her,
Bright and lovely Winnower!

When her song to laughter merges,
Melts the music of her tongue,
Like a streamlet's silver surges
Over golden pebbles flung.
From her hands the grainless chaff
On the light wind dances free;
But a sigh will check her laugh, —
" So much worthlessness, ah me,
Mingles with the good! " saith she.
Yet the grain is fair to see.
Laughter, like some sweet surprise,
Lights again her dewy eyes,
And her song hath drowned her sighs;
Therefore will I sing of her,
Bright and lovely Winnower!

Down beside as fair a river
Sings the Maiden Poesy,
In my heart shall flow for ever
Her undying melody.
Through her rosy fingers fall
Golden grains of richest thought;
While the grainless chaff is all
By the scattering breezes caught: —
So much worthlessness, ah me,
Mingles with the good! " saith she.
Yet the grain is bright to see,
Therefore laughs she merrily!
Laughs and sings in such sweet measure.
I must join for very pleasure —
While my heart keeps time with her,
I will praise the Winnower!