The Two Twilights. Henry A. Beers

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      Where the black hemlock slants athwart the stream

      He came to bathe; the sun's pursuing beam

      Laid a warm hand upon him, as he stood

      Naked, while noonday silence filled the wood.

      Holding the boughs o'erhead, with cautious foot

      He felt his way along the mossy root

      That edged the brimming pool; then paused and dreamed.

      Half like a dryad of the tree he seemed,

      Half like the naiad of the stream below,

      Suspended there between the water's flow

      And the green tree-top world; the love-sick air

      Coaxing with softest touch his body fair

      A little longer yet to be content

      Outside of its own crystal element.

      And he, still lingering at the brink, looked down

      And marked the sunshine fleck with gold the brown

      And sandy floor which paved that woodland pool.

      But then, within the shadows deep and cool

      Which the close hemlocks on the surface made,

      Two eyes met his yet darker than that shade

      And, shining through the watery foliage dim,

      Two white and slender arms reached up to him.

      "Comest thou again, now all the woods are still,

      Fair shape, nor even Echo from the hill

      Calls her Narcissus? Would her voice were thine,

      Dear speechless image, and could answer mine!

      Her I but hear and thee I may but see;

      Yet, Echo, thou art happy unto me;

      For though thyself art but a voice, sad maid,

      Thy love the substance is and my love shade.

      Alas! for never may I kiss those dumb

      Sweet lips, nor ever hope to come

      Into that shadow-world that lies somewhere —