Word to a Ripple

Join hands, wee verses-make a ring

And widen, widen. . . . Everything

Will be encircled in your spell

If you but widen.

Lo! I fell

A tiny plummet in a pool-

Fallen poet, dizzy fool-

Too lost to find myself I lie. . . .

Run on the water, rim the sky!

This fatal plunge, this little fall

Is loosed on an endless interval. . . .