Two abraded, pleading hands

Held below a shapeless mouth,

Human-like the fragment stands,

Tortured by perpetual drouth.

Once the form was drenched with spray,

Deluged with the rainbow flushes;

Surplus water dashed away

To the lotus and the rushes.

Time was clothed in rippling fashion,.

Opulence of light and air,

Beauty changing into passion

Every hour and everywhere.

And the yearning of that race

Was for something deep and tender,

Life replete with power, with grace,

Touched with vision and with splendour.

Now no rain dissolves and cools,

Dew is even as a dream,

The enticing far-off pools

In a mirage only seem.