These sunken rivulets Firestormed barrels And wicked homes do me wrong Tired child absorbs it All the maelstrom and the fear Strikes me with glib anyhows Oh water Oh busy busy Darlings in the meadow's green Bashful succubus in tangled arms Her frightening Wood-speckled pallor Flouts the forest features Spills the taciturn embrace Cursed power And swan's grace I seethe I shudder and burn To a gross despairing end I crowd what most exile In the soil where we all pass For standing waves Of flirting grass