Like glass is the fall
of the waters so cool:
Tall and smooth as a wall
to be passed not at all;
for remember, a fool
is who swims in the pool
where the knives of stone
would be grinding his bone.

But lift your eyes now from death
unto wonder of light:
The sun's almost gone
and the moon shall shine soon.
Silver strands by night,
golden threads when she sets
in the west, near our home,
that the waters did drown.

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