When green as a river was the barley, Green as a river th rye, I waded deep and began to parley With a youth whom I heard sigh, "I seek", said he, "a lovely lady, A nymph as bright as a queen, Like a tree that drips with pearls her shady Locks of hair were seen; And all the rivers became her flocks Though their wool you cannot shear, Because of the love fo her flowing locks. The kingly sun like a swain Came strong, unheeding of her scorn, Wading in deeps where she had lain, Seeping upon her river lawn And chasing her starry satyr train. She fled, and changed into a tree, -- That lovely fair-haired lady . . . And now I seek through the sere summer Where no trees are shady!"