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.