La Fèlice, by the forest pond
looks through the leaves to the Western screen
of Chinese gold that lies beyond
black trees and boughs of golden-green.
The little body of La Fèlice
weary of everything on earth
has passed from love to love, till peace
and beauty alone have any worth.
So still and deep the water lies,
so fiery-cool, so yellow-clear;
"Here beauty sleeps!" La Fèlice cries,
"I will give myself to beauty here!"
The mud is smooth and deep, the weeds
beneath her feet are soft and cool,
ripples widen and glistening beads
of bubble rise on the forest pool.
The water reaches to her knee,
now to her thigh, now to her breast,
till like a child all peacefully
does La Fèlice lie down to rest.
She struggles like a fearful bride
with ecstasy--then La Fèlice
turns quietly upon her side
and over the sunset pool is peace.
