As a soul from whom companionships subside The meaningless and onsweeping tide Of the river hastening, as it would disown Old ways and places, left this stone Of sand above the valley, to look down Miles of the valley, hamlet, village, town. ***** It is a head-gear of a chief whose head, Down from the implacable brow, Waiting is held below The waters, feather decked With blossoms blue and red, With ferns and vines; Hiding beneath the waters, head erect, His savage eyes and treacherous designs.