 | The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang |  |
36
II
Yea, here the dew of heaven upon the grain
Fails never, nor the ceaseless water-spring,
Near neighbour of Cephisus wandering,
That day by day revisiteth the plain.
Nor do the goddesses the grove disdain,
But chiefly here the Muses quire and sing,
And here they love to weave their dancing ring,
With Aphrodite of the golden rein.
Fails never, nor the ceaseless water-spring,
Near neighbour of Cephisus wandering,
That day by day revisiteth the plain.
Nor do the goddesses the grove disdain,
But chiefly here the Muses quire and sing,
And here they love to weave their dancing ring,
With Aphrodite of the golden rein.
And here there springs a plant that knoweth not
The Asian mead, nor that great Dorian isle,
Unsown, untilled, within our garden plot
It dwells—the gray-leaved olive; ne'er shall guile
Nor force of foemen root it from the spot:
Zeus and Athene guarding it the while!
The Asian mead, nor that great Dorian isle,
Unsown, untilled, within our garden plot
It dwells—the gray-leaved olive; ne'er shall guile
Nor force of foemen root it from the spot:
Zeus and Athene guarding it the while!
| The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | |