And never the nymph again saw he;
The shadow sloped from the tall headland
Off from the sand, out o’er the sea.
“His was a being that, born to-day,
Grows old to-morrow and dies, and she
Lived on for ages as fair alway,
To sing on the shore ’twixt the sand and the sea.
“Yet oh, my lover, by this right hand,
It was fate, not I, that was false to thee;
For thine was the life of the solid land,