Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 4 — Ashly Mere

ASHLY MERE

Come!

look in the shadowy water here, The stagnant water of Ashly Mere: Where the stirless depths are dark but clear, What is the thing that lies there?

-- A lily-pod, half-sunk from sight?

Or spawn of the toad, all water-white?

Or ashen blur of the moon's wan light?

Or a woman's face and eyes there?

Now lean to the water a listening ear, The haunted water of Ashly Mere: What is the sound that you seem to hear In the ghostly hush of the deeps there?

-- A withered reed, that the ripple lips?

Or a night-bird's wing, that the surface whips?

Or the rain in a leaf that drips and drips?

Or a woman's voice that weeps there?

Now look and listen!

but not too near The lonely water of Ashly Mere!

-- For so it happens this time each year As you lean by the Mere and listen: And the moaning voice I understand,-- For oft I have watched it draw to land, And lift from the water a ghastly hand And a face whose dead eyes glisten.

And this is the reason why every year To the hideous water of Ashly Mere I come when the woodland leaves are sear, And the autumn moon hangs hoary: For here by the Mere was wrought a wrong But the old, old story is overlong-- And woman is weak and man is strong, And the Mere's and mine is the story.