Sonnets of the Wingless Hours By Eugene Lee-Hamilton |
 | I. |
| II. |
|
| I. |
| II. |
TO THE SO-CALLED VENUS OF MILO.
II. |
| III. |
| IV. |
| V. |
 | Sonnets of the Wingless Hours |  |
38
TO THE SO-CALLED VENUS OF MILO.
II.
Perhaps thy arms are lying where they hold
The roots of some old olive, which strikes deep
In Attic earth; or where the Greek girls reap,
With echoes of the harvest hymns of old;
The roots of some old olive, which strikes deep
In Attic earth; or where the Greek girls reap,
With echoes of the harvest hymns of old;
Or haply in some seaweed-cushioned fold
Of warm Greek seas, which shadows of ships sweep,
While prying dolphins through the green ribs peep,
Of sunken galleys filled with Persian gold.
Of warm Greek seas, which shadows of ships sweep,
While prying dolphins through the green ribs peep,
Of sunken galleys filled with Persian gold.
Or were they shattered,—pounded back to lime,
To make the mortar for some Turkish tower
Which overshadowed Freedom for a time?
To make the mortar for some Turkish tower
Which overshadowed Freedom for a time?
Or strewn as dust, to make, with sun and shower,
The grain and vine and olive of their clime,
As was the hand which wrought them in an hour?
The grain and vine and olive of their clime,
As was the hand which wrought them in an hour?
| Sonnets of the Wingless Hours | |