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She is a woman; one in whom
I love her with a love as still
And, on its full, deep breast serene,
UNTREMULOUS in the river clear, Toward the sky's image, hangs the imaged bridge;
So still the air that I can hear The slender clarion of the unseen midge; Out of the stillness, with a gathering creep,
Like rising wind in leaves, which now decreases,
Now lulls, now swells, and all the while increases,
The huddling trample of a drove of sheep Tilts the loose planks, and then as gradually ceases
In dust on the other side; life's emblem deep,
A confused noise between two silences, Finding at last in dust precarious peace. On the wide marsh the purple-blos
Soak up the sunshine; sleeps the brimming tide, Save when the wedge-shaped wake in silence passes
Of some slow water-rat, whose sinuous glide
Wavers the long green sedge's shade from side to siae;
Hush! Still as death,
The tempest holds his breath As from a sudden will;
The rain stopsshort, but from the eaves You see it drop, and hear it from the leaves,
All is so bodingly still;
Followed by silence dead and dull,
To whelm the earth in one mad over
And then a total lull.
Gone, gone, so soon!
No more my half-crazed fancy there Can shape a giant in the air, No more I see his streaming hair, The writhing portent of his form ;The pale and quiet moon Makes her calm forehead bare, And the last fragments of the storm, Like shattered rigging from a fight at sea, Silent and few, are drif.ing over me.