THE BROKEN KALEIDOSCOPE
NOTHING stays so long that it
May not in an instant flit.
Quench the candle, gone are all The wavering shadows on the wall.
Watch now, Sweet, your image here
In this water, calm and fair :
Clear round eye and dark brown hair.
See, I fling a pebble in, What distortions now begin !
Refluent ripples sweep and sway, Chasing all your charms away.
Now, imagine a strange glass Which, at look, gave back, alas, Nothing but a crystal wall, And else, no hint of you at all : No rose on cheek, no red on lip, No trace of beauty's workmanship. That, my dear, for me and you, Precisely is what life might do— Might, I say. Oh, then how sweet Is it by this stream to sit,
And in its molten mirror see All that is now reality : The interlacing boughs, the sun's Tiny host of flickering moons, That rainbow kingfisher, and these Demure, minute anemones, Cherubim, in heaven's blue, Leaning their wizard faces too— Lost in delight at seeing you.
WALTER DE LA MARE.
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