Under a low and sullen sky,
Frowned on by lone winds that moan by
And palely sick for light from high
Till the landscape's soul doth sigh forever,
        Forever sigh,
A black and calmness‑haunted river,
That doth a town from itself sever,
Runs with an inner fear and shiver
Like a dim fate forever nigh,
        Nigher forever.

Ay, through that landscape lapsed from dream
Into a horrid truth doth gleam
That self‑absorbed, self‑empty stream
That bears a dream of dreams' emotion
        To emotion's dream!
Runs from a land whence is no motion
Towards a possible far ocean;
And they, whose eyes anguished sans motion
Bathe in it, take emotion's dream
        For dreams' emotion.