Tale of Archais

THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 19 For his despair ineffable. Her name He called ; she was not, and the piercing flame Of love struck through him, till his tortured mind Drove his young limbs, the wolf that hunts the hind, Far through the forest. Lastly sleep, like death, With strong compulsion of his labouring breath Came on him dreamless. When he woke, the day Stooped toward the splendour of the western bay, And he remembered. Like a wild bird’s cry The song within him flamed, a melody Dreadful and beautiful. The sad sea heard And echoed over earth its bitter word. SONG Ere the grape of joy is golden With the summer and the sun, Ere the maidens unbeholden Gather one by one, To the vineyard comes the shower, No sweet rain to fresh the flower. But the thunder rain that cleaves, Rends and ruins tender leaves.