Tale of Archais

2 THE TALE OF ARCHAIS As the nestlings of a dove ; We are sheltered in the shadow of thy wing. Are the roses dead to-day ? Is the wine spilt ? Is the flute Broken ? Is thy lover fled ? Has the dancer danced away ? Is the voice of ocean mute ? Is the hour of dreamland dead ? Nay, the slumbers of thine head Shall be until thy lures. Love shall gird thee as a garment while thy very life endures Sing, lute, sing a sweeter measure, Drown the wild discordant notes, Life, sob out thy chant of pleasure (Love a lure, and life a treasure) As a thousand thrushes’ passion Throbbed it from a thousand throats, In the wild Hesperian garden, in the old Danaic fashion. Bard of Fate, thy song is ended : Splendid it began and splendid