 | Mansoul or The Riddle of the World |  |
Now at mine entréaty, hath suffered us the Voice,
Revert; retrace awhile our homeward steps.
Have from our vísion, Athens' city and rock,
And Socrates faded ín the Muses' glass.
As weary and faint, we hold again East-course.
Once more neath flint-grey justling waves, we haste.
Nor long was, ere on our left hand, we viewed
The Cyprian Isle above.
Revert; retrace awhile our homeward steps.
104
And Socrates faded ín the Muses' glass.
As weary and faint, we hold again East-course.
Once more neath flint-grey justling waves, we haste.
Nor long was, ere on our left hand, we viewed
The Cyprian Isle above.
| Mansoul or The Riddle of the World | |