An old stone fountain sits almost level with the terrace, its basin holding stagnant water. On that quiet surface appear the blue-green of yews, red and purple fuchsias, bright squares of sky, and the tiny wake of a swimming beetle. A shadow wavers beneath, then an arm flashes through the reflections and a breast is outlined with leaves: a statue of a goddess lies outstretched in the shallow pool. The speaker’s attention feels calm and almost hypnotic, noticing every color and movement as if the garden itself were dreaming. The mood is still, warm, and faintly melancholic — a neglected corner made lovely by close looking. When autumn comes, beech leaves drift down and cover the sleeping figure like a golden blanket, turning decay into something tender.
The Broken Fountain — Summary
Oblong, its jutted ends rounding into circles. The old sunken basin lies with its flat, marble lip An inch below the terrace tiles.
Over the stagnant water Slide reflections : The blue-green of coned yews ; The purple and red of trailing fuchsias Dripping out of marble urns ; Bright squares of sky Ribbed by the wake of a swimming beetle.
Through the blue-bronze water Wavers the pale uncertainty of a shadow.
An arm flashes through the reflections, A breast is outlined with leaves. Outstretched in the quiet water The statue of a Goddess slumbers.
But when Autumn comes The beech leaves cover her with a golden counterpane.