Daphne - Vestavill, Уильям Уолтон

When green as a river was the barley

Green as a river the rye

I waded deep and began to parley

With a youth whom I heard sigh

«I seek,» said he, «a lovely lady

A nymph as bright as a queen

Like a tree that drips with pearls her shady

Locks of hair were seen

And all the rivers became her flocks

Though their wool you cannot shear, —

Because of the love of her flowing locks.

.

The kingly Sun like a swain

Came strong, unheeding of her scorn

Bathing in deeps where she has lain

Sleeping upon her river lawn

And chasing her starry satyr train

She fled, and changed into a tree —

That lovely fair-haired lady.

.

And now I seek through the sere summer

Where no trees are shady.

»