Like peat-dark waters are your eyes
Wherein the flickering memories flow
And lights and shadows come and go—
The sorrows, ecstasies and dreams
That ever throng the living streams—
And from their deeps drowned passions rise
To look again on mortal skies,
Then in a troubled eddy sink:
Yet I of those dark deeps would drink
Though death within their shadow lies.

Your brown hair like a winter spate
Whirls round me on the northern wind;
Its tossing tumult strikes me blind
And dulls the voices of the world
Within my ears; about me furled
It holds me in the nets of fate:
Down, down I sink beneath the weight
Of whelming tresses, yet no fear
Is on me: I no longer hear
The striving winds of love and hate.

Down, down I sink among the bent
While slow and slower throbs my blood:
I lie as one beneath the flood,
As one beneath the streaming night
That flows untroubled of the light;
I, who was buffeted and rent
By every gust that came and went,
Forgetful of the winds I lie
And all the storms that racked the sky
Until the springs of time be spent.