No sighs but sigh-warm kisses, or light For others, good or bad, hatred and Are those swift moments? Whither are they fled ? I'll smile no more, Peona; nor will wed To him her dripping hand she softly kist, And anxiously began to plait and twist Her ringlets round her fingers, saying: 'Youth! Too long, alas, hast thou starved on the ruth, The bitterness of love: too long indeed, Seeing thou art so gentle. Could I weed Thy soul of care, by heavens, I would offer All the bright riches of my crystal coffer To Amphitrite; all my clear-eyed fish, Golden, or rainbow-sided, or purplish, Vermilion-tail'd, or finn'd with silvery gauze; Yea, or my veined pebble-floor, that draws A virgin light to the deep; my grotto-sands, Tawny and gold, oozed slowly from far lands By my diligent springs: my level lilies, shells, grow, Whether to weeds or flowers; but for me, There is no depth to strike in: I can see Naught earthly worth my compassing; so stand Upon a misty, jutting head of land But the soft shadow of my thrice seen love, And, but from the deep cavern there was Than be- I care not what. O meekest borne Large wings upon my shoulders, and point Of icy pinnacles, and dipp'dst thine arms out My love's far dwelling. ful rout Into the deadening ether that still charms Though the play- Their marble being: now, as deep pro 179 Dear goddess, help! or the wide gaping But mingled up; a gleaming melancholy; air A dusky empire and its diadems; And lifted hands, and trembling lips, he Along whose track the prince quick footstood; Like old Deucalion mountain'd o'er the flood, Or blind Orion hungry for the morn. steps told, With all its lines abrupt and angular: He had touch'd his forehead, he began to thread All courts and passages, where silence dead, Roused by his whispering footsteps, murmur'd faint: And long he traversed to and fro, to acquaint Himself with every mystery, and awe; 270 And thoughts of self came on, how crude and sore The journey homeward to habitual self! Cheats us into a swamp, into a fire, 280 |