(seq. 19)

hair almost white though she was not barely fortymany years past She had
been very beautiful as a girl & a little vain & very ambitious
she was the daughter of poor people her education

A Water-Lily

Oh star on the breast of the river,
Oh marvel of bloom and grace,
Did you fall straight down from heaven
Out of the sweetest place?

You are white as the thoughts of an angel;
Your heart is steeped in the sun;
Did you grow in the golden city,
My pure and radient one.

Nay, nay I fell not out of heaven;
Non gave me my saintly white,
It slowly grew from the blackness
Down in the dreamy night.

From the ooze of the silent river
I won my glory and grace,
While souls fall not O my poet;
They rise to the sweetest place.