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EPILOGUE
A DEATH IN THESSALY
Movos Oewv yap Odvatos ov Swpuwv epg.
—ALSCH., Fr. Niobe.
AREWELL! O Light of Day, O torch of
Althzean!
‘The strange fruits lure me of Persephone;
I raise the last, the memorable pzean,
Storm-throated, mouthed as the cave-rolling sea;
I lift the cup: deep draughts of blue Lethean!
My wine to me.
O lamentable season of Apollo,
When swoops his glory to the golden wave!
As all his children, so their lord shall follow ;
The flower he slew, the maiden he would save,
As Itylus, light woven, tuned! Oh swallow,
Bewail their grave!
The gracious breast of Artemis may light me
To men—yet loved I ever Artemis ?
Surely the vine-song and the dance delight me,
The sea-blue bowers where Aphrodite is.
Terrible gods and destinies excite me,
The strange sad kiss.
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