University of Virginia Library

APHRODITE.

One vast expanse of liquid-sapphire sea
Stretches around on every side—the Sun
Drowns all his glare within the plashing waves,
Cool, fresh, and quivering 'neath each ardent ray.
And the soft foam, the opal-changing foam,
Now creamy white, now flushing rosy pink,
Now delicate emerald, new in every light,
Oh, how it brightens all the lonely waste,
Curling and bubbling o'er the darksome waves.
But lo! it bubbles even more than wont,
It writhes and seethes as though in sudden wrath,
It gleams, it froths, it parts—oh dazzling sight!
A form ariseth from its milky depths,
Divinely molded into perfect grace,
A woman too ethereal for Earth,
And lovelier than Heaven's haughty queen
The lucent shoulders downward slope unto
The pure white breast, while a most radiant light,
An amber-tinted mist, plays round her form.
She seems a being of the foam itself,
As delicate and exquisite in hue,
Save where on either cheek a shell-like pink
Glows faintly as the sunrise on the snow.
The eyes seem colored by the sea itself,
Where its blue faints to melted amethyst,
And shadowed are by golden lashèd lids,
While sunny, sunny hair, with thousand rings,
Streams down upon her fair and blue-veined limbs,
A golden mantle—draping her around
In glory, from the haloed head divine,
Down to the archèd pearly little foot.
And now her whole form stands above the waves,
But lightlier than a feather presseth them;
Then looking down she sees her radiant self
Glassed in the cool transparent depths of sea,
And blusheth at her beauty, while a smile,
A heavenly smile of wonder and surprise,
Parts to a double cherry her fair mouth,
And gleameth forth from out her lustrous eyes,
And lighteth all her face. But all at once,
Ere she can fully see her mirrored form,
She feels herself upraised and borne along
Swift as the wind, by kindly Zephyrus,
Who rests not once until he placeth her
Upon a blooming island of the sea.
Then come the Seasons forth to welcome her,
And clothe her in apparel bright as theirs.
Winter bestows a mantle pure and white,
Of snowy ermine, like unto his own.
Autumn gives all his thousand-tinted gems,
Summer brings roses, and the gentle Spring
Wreathes fragrant violets around her brow.