From other men I have learnt further things. If any of free purpose, thus they tell, Sail’d hither to consult the oracle,— For oracle there was,—they sacrificed Such victims as they brought, if such sufficed, And some they slew, some to the god set free: But they who driven from their course at sea Chanced on the isle, took of the goats thereon And pray’d Achilles to accept his own. Then made they a gift, and when they had offer’d once, If to their question there was no response, They added to the gift and asked again; Yea twice and more, until the god should deign Answer to give, their offering they renew’d; Whereby great riches to the shrine ensued. And when both sacrifice and gifts were made They worship’d at the shrine, and as they pray’d Sailors aver that often hath been seen A man like to a god, of warrior mien, A beauteous form of figure swift and strong; Down on his shoulders his light hair hung long And his full armour was enchast with gold: While some, who with their eyes might nought behold, Say that with music strange the air was stir’d; And some there are, who have both seen and heard: And if a man wish to be favour’d more, He need but spend one night upon the shore; To him in sleep Achilles will appear And lead him to his tent, and with good cheer Show him all friendliness that men desire; Patroclus pours the wine, and he his lyre Takes from the pole and plays the strains thereon Which Cheiron taught him first on Pelion. These things I tell as they were told to me, Nor do I question but it well may be: For sure I am that, if man ever was, Achilles was a hero, both because Of his high birth and beauty, his country’s call, His valour of soul, his early death withal, For Homer’s praise, the crown of human art; And that above all praise he had at heart A gentler passion in her sovran sway, And when his love died threw his life away. 27 AN ANNIVERSARY _HE_ Bright, my belovèd, be thy day, This eve of Summer’s fall: And Autumn mass his flowers gay To crown thy festival! _SHE_ I care not if the morn be bright, Living in thy love-rays: No flower I need for my delight, Being crownèd with thy praise. _HE_ O many years and joyfully This sun to thee return; Ever all men speak well of thee, Nor any angel mourn! _SHE_ For length of life I would not pray, If thy life were to seek; Nor ask what men and angels say But when of thee they speak. _HE_ Arise! The sky hath heard my song, The flowers o’erhear thy praise; And little loves are waking long To wish thee happy days. 28 REGINA CARA JUBILEE-SONG, FOR MUSIC, 1897