Afternoon

<SPAN name="XXIV"></SPAN>XXIV<br/> <br/> <br/> O quiet garden wherein nothing moves<br/> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Save, in the glassy lake,</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">The crimson fishes, each</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 4em;">A fiery flake.</span><br/> <br/> They are the memories that play within our thought,<br/> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Calm and undistraught</span><br/> And clear, as in the water's breast<br/> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Of confidence and rest.</span><br/> <br/> The red fish leap and the clear water wells,<br/> <span style="margin-left: 1em;">In the abrupt and potent light,</span><br/> Amid the iris green and bleaching shells<br/> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">And motionless stones</span><br/> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">Around the border bright.</span><br/> <br/> It is sweet to see them come and go<br/> In all the freshness and lucidity<br/> <span style="margin-left: 2em;">That bathes them so;</span><br/> We have no need to fear or fret<br/> Lest they should bring up from below<br/> Other than a fugitive regret.<br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />