Tale of Archais

THE TALE OF ARCHAIS 65 Sunnier days and rivers calm and clear, And music for four seasons of the year, And pleasant people with glad throat and voice To wise to grieve, too happy to rejoice. So came the dawn on Ida to disclose Within her confines a delicious rose Lying asleep, a-dreaming, white of brow, Stainless and splendid. Yea, and fair enow To tempt the lips of Death to kiss her eyes And bid her waken in the sad surprise Of seeing round her the iron gates of hell In gloomy strength : so sweet, so terrible, So fair, her image in the brook might make A passionless old god his hunger slake By plunging in the waters, though he knew His drowning body drowned her image too. Yet she seemed gentle. Never thorn assailed The tender finger that would touch, nor failed The strong desire of Zeus, who wisely went, As was his wont, with amorous intent Among those pastures, and fresh fragrant lawns, And dewy wonder of new woods, where dawns A new flower every day, a perfect flower, Each queenlier than her sister, though the shower Of early dew begemmed them all with stars,