John Alexander Ross McKellar
Comments about John Alexander Ross McKellar
The Pool Of Hylas
Down on the floor, among the waving bronze
Of weeds, and threading lilies' roots, are fish;
And on the surface, flowers, leaves and swans.
A tarnished glint of scales, a bubbling swish
Disturbs the shadows of that cold green night
Of nibbling mouths that know no other wish.
No singing there; but, delicately white,