32 
THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 
Over the weary Charicles.  Content 
With him she spake, and he, still buffeting 
The waves, looked never up, but with the swing 
Of strong fierce limbs, clove through the water 
gray. 
Hearing her voice, he answered, “ Ere the day 
Has fallen from his pinnacle must I 
Reach sea-girt Paphos, with a bitter cry 
To clasp the knees of Cytherea, and pray 
That she will aid me.”  Then the billows lay 
Fondly quiescent while she answered him : 
“ Yea, are thine eyes with weeping grown so dim 
Thou canst not see who hovers over thee ? 
For I am she thou seekest.  Come with me 
And tell me all thy grief ;  thy prayer is heard 
Before thy spirit clothes in wintry word 
The fire it throbs with.”  And her eager doves 
Waited.  From seas grown calm the wanton 
loves 
Lifted the hero to the pearly car, 
Whose floor was azure and whose front a star 
Set in seven jewels girt with ivory. 
 
Then the light rein the goddess left to lie 
Unheeded, and the birds flew on apace,