Narcissus
There came to view a gleaming lake
Which beckoned him to take a drink,
But beauty seized the thirsty lad
As there he bent above its brink ...
A stunning sight appeared to him
Who marveled at its dear design—
Behold! a face beheld him back,
Whose symmetry was so divine.
How mesmerizing, oh the sight,
That rippled in the water clear ...
He touched his finger to its cheek,
But wavelets had it disappear.
When all the agitation calmed,
He dared, from love, a soft embrace:
But any touch attempted would
Disturb the beauty of its face.
Again it came. Again he touched.
Again the figure fluctuates.
Lamenting there beside that bank,
He cursed himself and all the Fates:
"What awful truth must I endure
That tells me what I see is I—
That boy within the water's gleam
Is me! Oh, wretched me! But why?"
Then Nemesis, who lingered by,
With fatal judgement in her vest,
Remorseless, cast a lethal lot
Which grew despairing in his breast.
Bereft of love's requited touch,
He pounded moans upon his chest
'Til writhing, by the water's edge,
He slipped into eternal rest.
Envoi
His deathbed is a thing of woe—
A cautionary tale to fear.
The Naiads and the Nymphs all know
That self-love grows a flower there.
About this poem
I've always delighted in the tragic myth surrounding poor Echo and her self-complacent heart's desire, Narcissus. So many classic poems about the two, I thought I would try my own hand at one: beginning with Narcissus.
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"Narcissus" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 10 Jun 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/166021/narcissus>.
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