Close to the hearthstone, 10
With long thoughts of thee,
Thy lonely lover
Sits now, remembering
All the spent hours
And thy fair beauty. 15
Ah, when the hyacinth
Wakens with spring,
And buds the laurel,
Doubt not, some morning
When all earth revives, 20
Hearing Pan's flute-call
Over the river-beds,
Over the hills,
Sounding the summons,
I shall look up and behold 25
In the door,
Smiling, expectant,
Loving as ever
And glad as of old,
My own lost Atthis! 30
XC
A sad, sad face, and saddest eyes that ever
Beheld the sun,
Whence came the grief that makes of all thy beauty
One sad sweet smile?
In this bright portrait, where the painter fixed them, 5
I still behold
The eyes that gladdened, and the lips that loved me,
And, gold on rose,
The cloud of hair that settles on one shoulder
Slipped from its vest. 10
I almost hear thy Mitylenean love-song
In the spring night,
When the still air was odorous with blossoms,
And in the hour
Thy first wild girl's-love trembled into being, 15
Glad, glad and fond.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52