The bark; the tree may hold its place awhile. Hamad. Awhile? thy father numbers then my days?

Rhaicos. Are there no others where the moss beneath

Is quite as tufty? Who would send thee forth

Or ask thee why thou tarriest? Is thy flock Anywhere near?

Hamad. I have no flock: I kill Nothing that breathes, that stirs, that feels the air,

The sun, the dew. Why should the beautiful

(And thou art beautiful) disturb the source Whence springs all beauty? Hast thou never heard

Of Hamadryads?

Rhaicos.

Heard of them I have:

Tell me some tale about them. May I sit Beside thy feet? Art thou not tired? The herbs

Are very soft; I will not come too nigh; Do but sit there, nor tremble so, nor doubt. Stay, stay an instant : let me first explore If any acorn of last year be left

Within it; thy thin robe too ill protects Thy dainty limbs against the harm one small Acorn may do. Here 's none. Another day Trust me; till then let me sit opposite.

Hamad. I seat me; be thou seated, and content.

Rhaicos. O sight for gods! ye men be-
low! adore

The Aphroditè! Is she there below?
Or sits she here before me? as she sate
Before the shepherd on those heights that
shade

The Hellespont, and brought his kindred

'Tis said that laughs were heard within the wood :

But who should hear them? and whose laughs? and why?

Savory was the smell and long past noon, Thallinos in thy house; for marjoram, Basil and mint, and thyme and rosemary, Were sprinkled on the kid's well roasted length,

Awaiting Rhaicos. Home he came at last, Not hungry, but pretending hunger keen, With head and eyes just o'er the maple

plate.

"Thou see'st but badly, coming from the

sun,

"Come back!" and twin'd her fingers in

the hem

Above his shoulder. Then she led his steps To a cool rill that ran o'er level sand Through lentisk and through oleander; there Bath'd she his feet, lifting them on her lap When bath'd, and drying them in both her hands.

He dar'd complain; for those who most are lov'd

Most dare it; but not harsh was his complaint.

"O thou inconstant !" said he, "if stern law Bind thee, or will, stronger than sternest law,

O, let me know henceforward when to hope The fruit of love that grows for me but

here."

Down fell the languid brow, both hands fell down,

A shriek was carried to the ancient hall
Of Thallinos: he heard it not: his son
Heard it, and ran forthwith into the wood.
No bark was on the tree, no leaf was green,
The trunk was riven through. From that
day forth

Nor word nor whisper sooth'd his ear, nor sound

Even of insect wing; but loud laments The woodmen and the shepherds one long year

Heard day and night; for Rhaicos would not quit

The solitary place, but moan'd and died.

Hence milk and honey wonder not, O guest, To find set duly on the hollow stone.

THE DEATH OF ARTEMIDORA

"ARTEMIDORA! Gods invisible,
While thou art lying faint along the couch,
Have tied the sandal to thy veined feet,
And stand beside thee, ready to convey
Thy weary steps where other rivers flow.
Refreshing shades will waft thy weariness
Away, and voices like thine own come nigh,
Soliciting, nor vainly, thy embrace."

Artemidora sigh'd, and would have press'd The hand now pressing hers, but was too weak.

Fate's shears were over her dark hair un

seen

While thus Elpenor spake : he look'd into Eyes that had given light and life erewhile To those above them, those now dim with

tears

And watchfulness. Again he spake of joy, Eternal. At that word, that sad word, joy, Faithful and fond her bosom heav'd once more,

Her head fell back: one sob, one loud deep sob

Swell'd through the darken'd chamber; 't was not hers:

With her that old boat incorruptible,
Unwearied, undiverted in its course,
Had plash'd the water up the farther strand.

FROM "MYRTIS"

The

pangs of love? and my first love was he!"

Tell me (if ever, Eros! are reveal'd Thy secrets to the earth) have they been true

To any love who speak about the first? What! shall these holier lights, like twinkling stars

In the few hours assign'd them, change their place,

And, when comes ampler splendor, disappear?

Idler I am, and pardon, not reply,
Implore from thee, thus question'd; well
I know

Thou strikest, like Olympian Jove, but

once.

Then becomes worst; what loveliest, most

deform'd.

The heart is hardest in the softest climes,
The passions flourish, the affections die.
O thou vast tablet of these awful truths,
That fillest all the space between the seas,
Spreading from Venice's deserted courts
To the Tarentine and Hydruntine mole,
What lifts thee up? what shakes thee? 't is
the breath

Of God. Awake, ye nations! spring to life!
Let the last work of his right hand appear
Fresh with his image, Man.

FROM "GEBIR"

TAMAR AND THE NYMPH

""TWAS evening, though not sunset, and the tide,

Level with these green meadows, seem'd yet higher :

'Twas pleasant, and I loosen'd from my neck

The pipe you gave me, and began to play. O that I ne'er had learn'd the tuneful art!

It always brings us enemies or love.
Well, I was playing, when above the waves
Some swimmer's head methought I saw
ascend;

I, sitting still, survey'd it with my pipe
Awkwardly held before my lips half-clos'd.
Gebir! it was a Nymph! a Nymph divine !
I cannot wait describing how she came,
How I was sitting, how she first assum'd
The sailor; of what happen'd there remains
Enough to say, and too much to forget.
The sweet deceiver stepp'd upon this bank
Before I was aware; for with surprise
Moments fly rapid as with love itself.
Stooping to tune afresh the hoarsen'd reed,
I heard a rustling, and where that arose
My glance first lighted on her nimble feet.
Her feet resembled those long shells ex-
plor'd

By him who to befriend his steed's dim sight
Would blow the pungent powder in the eye.
Her eyes too! O immortal gods! her eyes
Resembled - what could they resemble ?
what

Ever resemble those? Even her attire
Was not of wonted woof nor vulgar art:

Her mantle show'd the yellow samphirepod,

Her girdle the dove-color'd wave serene. 'Shepherd,' said she, 'and will you wrestle

now

And with the sailor's hardier race engage?' I was rejoiced to hear it, and contriv'd How to keep up contention: could I fail By pressing not too strongly, yet to press ? "Whether a shepherd, as indeed you seem, Or whether of the hardier race you boast, I am not daunted; no; I will engage.' 'But first,' said she, 'what wager will you lay?'

‘A sheep,' I answered: 'add whate'er you will.'

'I cannot,' she replied, 'make that return: Our hided vessels in their pitchy round Seldom, unless from rapine, hold a sheep. But I have sinuous shells of pearly hue Within, and they that lustre have imbib'd In the sun's palace-porch, where when unyok'd

His chariot-wheel stands midway in the

wave:

Shake one and it awakens, then apply
Its polish'd lips to your attentive ear,
And it remembers its august abodes,

And murmurs as the ocean murmurs there.
And I have others given me by the nymphs,
Of sweeter sound than any pipe you have:
But we, by Neptune! for no pipe contend;
This time a sheep I win, a pipe the next.'
Now came she forward eager to engage,
But first her dress, her bosom then survey'd
And heav'd it, doubting if she could deceive.
Her bosom seem'd, inclos'd in haze like
heaven,

To baffle touch, and rose forth undefin'd; Above her knee she drew the robe succinct, Above her breast, and just below her arms. 'This will preserve my breath when tightly

bound,

I clung around her neck; the vest beneath
Rustled against our slippery limbs entwin'd:
Often mine springing with eluded force
Started aside and trembled till replaced:
And when I most succeeded, as I thought,
My bosom and my throat felt so compress'd
That life was almost quivering on my lips.
Yet nothing was there painful these are
signs

Of secret arts and not of human might;
What arts I cannot tell; I only know
My eyes grew dizzy and my strength
decay'd;

I was indeed o'ercome - with what regret, And more, with what confusion, when I reach'd

The fold, and yielding up the sheep, she cried,

This pays a shepherd to a conquering

maid.'

She went away; I on the wicker gate Leant, and could follow with my eyes alone

The sheep she carried easy as a cloak;
But when I heard its bleating, as I did,
And saw, she hastening on, its hinder feet
Struggle, and from her snowy shoulder slip,
One shoulder its poor efforts had unveil❜d,
Then all my passions mingling fell in tears;
Restless then ran I to the highest ground
To watch her; she was gone; gone down
the tide ;

And the long moonbeam on the hard wet sand

Lay like a jasper column half uprear'd."

TO YOUTH

WHERE art thou gone, light-ankled Youth?
With wing at either shoulder,

And smile that never left thy mouth
Until the Hours grew colder:

Then somewhat seem'd to whisper near
That thou and I must part;
I doubted it; I felt no fear,
No weight upon the heart.