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150
THE SUPPLIANT.
Beneath the poplars o'er the sacred pool
The halcyons dart like rays of azure light,—
Fair presage! by the columns white and cool,
I'll watch till fall of night.
The halcyons dart like rays of azure light,—
Fair presage! by the columns white and cool,
I'll watch till fall of night.
Perchance the goddess at the twilight's breath
Will come with silver feet and braidless hair,
And all too startled to decree my death,
Will hearken to my prayer.
Will come with silver feet and braidless hair,
And all too startled to decree my death,
Will hearken to my prayer.
So when at moon-rise by the farm I go,
The lovely girl who near the fig-tree stands,
May turn no more on scornful feet and slow,
But hold out both her hands.
The lovely girl who near the fig-tree stands,
May turn no more on scornful feet and slow,
But hold out both her hands.
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