That was reigning all around it, like the fragrance from a balm.
As she drew, unguarded, nigh it, gently seemed the waters stirred;
For the music of her voice was as the warbling of a bird:
And the sheet of liquid crystal, that was slipping o’er the rim,
For a moment fairly quavered, ere it parted from the brim.
Coming nearer, then she spied it—this sweet mirror hidden there—
All set round with greenest mosses, and arbuscles fresh and rare;
And she clapped her hands delighted, as she hastened to its side,
And she shouted with a melody that thrilled its mimic tide.
Then she sat her down beside it, and with hand pressed to her zone,