University of Virginia Library

III.

Wake, Ariadne!
Wake from thy slumbers;
Wake with new heart,
Which no sorrow encumbers!
Black Night is away now,
And glorious Day now
Reddens apace.
The white mists are fleeing,
And o'er the Ægean,
His shining steeds follow
The call of Apollo,
And snort for the race.
Hark! through thy slumbers,
Undulant numbers
Quicken the air!
O'er the Ægean
Swells the loud pæan,
With melody rare;
The clear-throated flute,
And the sweet-sounding lute,
The cymbals' shrill jangle,
And tinkling triangle,
And tambour, are there.
Wake, Ariadne!
Look through thy slumbers!
The Mænads, to meet thee,
Marshal their numbers.
Down, from the sky
Dionysus has sent them;
Rosiest beauty
Venus has lent them.
Hovering nigh,
Their thin robes floating,
With balm in their eye,
Thy wounds they are noting,
O Ariadne!
Blest be the bride
(So echoes their song)
That shall sleep by the side
Of the wine-god strong,
Fair Ariadne!
Daughter of Minos,
Though Earth may reject thee,
Great Dionysus
Above shall expect thee.
Like a gem thou shalt shine
'Mid the bright starry glory;
A name shall be thine
With the famous in story.
Wake, Ariadne,
From Earth's heavy slumbers;
Wake to new life,
Which no sorrow encumbers!