My step, too, had less lightness, and my breast Throbbed quickly, while my heart beat, and my brain Ran round and round, delirious with delight, so deep, it seemed like pain. I left the song, the dance, my maiden mates— An endless yearning filled my craving soul, Which sadly walked apart from them toward some unknown and glorious goal. One day, when thus depressed, I stood, in thought, Beside a babbling brook, whose tinkling fall Among the mossy rocks, from stone to stone, made silence musical. Contemplating the beauty of the scene, Imagining me the Naiad of the stream, I grew the spirit of the place, and stood the deity of a sylvan dream. Just then, a being, much more god than man, Fell at my feet: I had no power to fly, No wish, no thought; the serpent’s fabulous spell spoke in his eloquent eye. He prayed; I listened, for his words were song, Drowning my heart; like surf along a strand Their melody rose and rolled, wave following wave, covering the helpless land. Even then he vanished; but his image filled The void that, hitherto, my spirit felt; I stood erect—a loving woman, Jove—there, where, before, I knelt. And all things passed; a dull and opiate blank Fell, like Nepenthé, blackly on my brain: I was a living corpse, insensible to pleasure, dead to pain. I dreamed again: a glorious city rose, Like Aphrodite, on a summer strand; Palaces, pyramids and temples stretched away on either hand. Its harbor, guarded by two massy towers, Was filled with ships, whose plethoric pinions bore The treasures of an hundred sister lands to her heroic shore. Even while I gazed, slowly along the quay, Moving in melancholy march, to strains Of heavy harmony, whose solemn sounds made pity in my veins, A long procession, like a funeral, Approached the shore. There, moored, a galley lay, Black as the wings of night, like an eclipse blighting the light of day. The crowd closed round: some stood, with lifted hands, Adjuring heaven; some turned aside to hide Their streaming tears, while others dumbly gazed on the receding tide. With downcast eyes, seven youths, seven maidens passed On board the galley, when my Cretan eyes Saw Niobe-like Athens mourn her sons, passing to sacrifice. The raven bark unfurled its ebon wings And like a bird, flew lightly from the strand; While, far behind, in distance growing dim, declined the cloud-like land. Away, away, across the billowy sea, The galley flew: night came and went again, When, with the rising sun, Crete’s porphyry walls rose from the crimson main. —I sat beside my sire: around us stood The wise, the brave, the lovely of our land, When, led by Thésëus, Athens’ offspring came, a self-devoted band.