THE LAMENT 



Alas! Alas, where once the woodland wild 

 Soft breezes wafting, perfumed all the air, 

 Wooing the waters mirroring Heaven there 

 All gently like the friendship of a child, 

 Loving to loiter in pools formed for love, 

 'The noble shad his wanton wandering stayed. 

 His silver flank against the moss-green shade 

 Gleamed white below, and blue-gray from above. 



Alas, weird streams, with forest spells elate, 

 How have ye fallen from your high estate! 

 Your flowings marred by mills that moan or roar, 

 Huge, bizarre shapings, with projecting arms 

 That whirr like mad, while turgid dams downpour 

 Doth drown the loving sigh the wind was wont to give. 



r^^s^ .;• .'-■ 



