Tale of Archais

THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 37 Snow-hills and streams, dew-diamonded, Call us from silvery dreams To where the morning kindles red Snow-hills and streams. See, breezes whisper, sunlight gleams With gentle kissings ; flowers shed Pale scents, the whole sweet meadow steams. Forth, glittering shoulders, golden head, And tune our lutes to tender themes Among the lost loves of the dead, Snow-hills and streams. The queen clapped dainty hands, caressed of dew, And bade the love-lorn wanderer sing anew. His muse came trembling, soon through starry air it flew. SONG OF CHARICLES Within the forest gloom There lies a lover’s bower, A lotus-flower In bloom.