William Walton — Daphne

When green as a river was the barley Green as a river the 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 of her flowing locks . . The kingly Sun like a swain Came strong, unheeding of her scorn Bathing in deeps where she has lain Sleeping 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. "