Orpheus

In the hour of vesper I change the key! I cry on Apollo to aid, I lift up my lyre on the sea. Thou reaper of fear, Accurst of mankind, I charge thee to hear, Deaf horror deep-mined In hell! O uprear - On the front of the wind ! I curse thee! Thou hearest my hounds of thunder that mutter behind ? How strange is the dark And the silence around ! Hardly the spark Of my silvery sound Moves, or may mark The heaven’s dim bound. How strange! I have sought him in vain—perchance not in vain have I found! No! Life thrills in me; Vibrates on the lyre; The Fates still spin me Their thread of desire : Still, woo and win me Soft eyes, and the dire Low fervour of sensual phrase, song kin to the nether- most fire! 94