Chapter 164 of 435 · 50 words · ~1 min read

XXI.

"Thou flowest still, O river, Thou flowest 'neath the moon; Thy lily hath not changed a leaf,[5] Thy charmed lute a tune: _He_ mixed his voice with thine and _his_ Was all I heard around; But now, beside his chosen bride, I hear the river's sound." The river floweth on.