Where The Stars Sleep In The Calm Black Stream,
Like Some Great Lily, Pale Ophelia Floats,
Slowly Floats, Wound In Her Veils Like A Dream.
Half Heard In The Woods, Halloos From Distant Throats.

A Thousand Years Has Sad Ophelia Gone
Glimmering On The Water, A Phantom Fair:
A Thousand Years Her Soft Distracted Song
Has Waked The Answering Evening Air.