This I saw in an old well

In a far, forgotten land,

In a dark well, a cool well,

Too deep to trail my hand.

I saw there a pale dead face

That hung for a little while,

An ivory face, with dark eyes,

That smelled a faint smile.

Slowly the black of cold stones

Was a mist around the face.

I rose from the dark, the cool well

And left that far place.

Now in a land less forgot

I know, as a love dies,

That ivory, misty face was mine,

And the smile and dark eyes.