Poems of Madison Cawein Vol. 4 — The Woman by the Water

THE WOMAN BY THE WATER

She stands within the stormy glow Of sunset, with a face of snow, The white embodiment of woe, As night comes on: She stands within the sombre glare Of dusk, with dark neglected hair, An apparition of despair, When day is gone.

The haggard house within the vale Looks spectral as a ragged sail The Dutchman hoists against the gale On haunted seas: And in the garden,--one vast brake Of dock and thistle,--snail and snake Crawl; and the death-watch taps, awake In rotting trees.

The stagnant stream along the night Creeps, like a nightmare, where each white Lily is an uneasy light, A wisp up-tossed: And through the cypress-trees and vines The gray fox skulks and laps and whines;

The owl hoots; and the foxfire shines In darkness lost.

She stands beside the stagnant stream;

Her garments drip at every seam;

She looks a shadow in a dream Of dread and woe: No star stares half so steadily At earth as at the water she;

And what she sees there--it may be The owlets know.