The Pool
By the pool that I see in my dreams, dear love,I have sat with you time and again;And listened beneath the dank leaves, dear love,To the sibilant sound of the rain.
And the pool, it is silvery bright, dear love,And as pure as the heart of a maid,As sparkling and dimpling, it darkles and shinesIn the depths of the heart of the glade.
But, oh, I ‘ve a wish in my soul, dear love,(The wish of a dreamer, it seems,)That I might wash free of my sins, dear love,In the pool that I see in my dreams.