Curled upward slowly in the windless air,
And sparrows quarrelled on the well-thatched roofs,
Until at noon we found a sheltered spring,
In a small hollow under aspen trees.
Margined by reeds this mirror was, and gold
With mallows in the reeds, and smooth grass lay
About it, and the water bubbled clear
Out of a fissure where grew many ferns.
There, while the horses cropped the tender grass,
We sate together, and no word was said.