Where the stars sleep in the calm black stream,
  Like some great lily, pale Ophelia floats,
  Slowly floats, wound in her veils like a dream.
  Half heard in the woods, halloos from distant throats.
  
  A thousand years has sad Ophelia gone
  Glimmering on the water, a phantom fair:
  A thousand years her soft distracted song
  Has waked the answering evening air.