| |
| HIGH upon the Hill of Drios, | |
| As the day began to waken, | |
| All alone sat Ariadne, | |
| Watching, weary, and forsaken: | |
| With her dark dishevelled tresses | 5 |
| Dank with dewdrops of the night, | |
| And her face all wan and haggard, | |
| Still she waited on the height: | |
| Watching, praying that the morning | |
| Might reveal her love returning, | 10 |
| Swiftly o’er the quivering water; | |
| To the lonely isle returning, | |
| And the king’s deserted daughter. | |
| |
| From her couch of orient forests, | |
| From the chamber of her rest, | 15 |
| Came, with queenly step, the Morning, | |
| Journeying onward to the west: | |
| And the glory of her presence | |
| Tinged the sea and filled the air, | |
| Smote the lofty Hill of Drios, | 20 |
| And the lonely watcher there; | |
| Yet no bark across the water | |
| Came to lighten her despair. | |
| But with sighing of the pine-trees, | |
| By the low wind gently shaken, | 25 |
| All day long in mournful snatches | |
| Rose the plaint of Ariadne, | |
| Watching, weary, and forsaken. | |
| |
| “In vain! in vain! The seventh bright day | |
| Is breaking o’er yon eastern land, | 30 |
| That mid the light, a long dark band, | |
| Lies dim and shadowy far away; | |
| And still from morn till eve I ’ve scanned | |
| That weary sea from strand to strand, | |
| To mark his sail against the spray. | 35 |
| In vain! in vain! The morning ray | |
| Shows not his bark mid all the seas, | |
| Though I may trace from where I stand | |
| All the flowery Cyclades. | |
| |
| “Seven days! But O, how tardily | 40 |
| Those lonely hours have crept away! | |
| And yet it seems but yesterday | |
| That, sailing o’er the Cretan Sea, | |
| I watched the melting shadows gray, | |
| And hailed the dawn as emblem gay | 45 |
| Of all the rapture yet to be, | |
| When I with him should wander free, | |
| Through fair Ilissus’ bowers of green. | |
| But now my love has gone for aye, | |
| And I am left alone alway, | 50 |
| To brood o’er all that might have been! | |
| |
| “O, had I to the shadows passed, | |
| Before the dark-eyed stranger came | |
| To light with love the fatal flame | |
| That aye will burn within my breast! | 55 |
| The maids of Crete had named my name, | |
| Nor thought of love, nor yet of shame, | |
| But of a sister pure and chaste, | |
| In death’s cold arms untimely pressed, | |
| And all from joy and sorrow reft: | 60 |
| He might have lived his life of fame, | |
| And I had ne’er been loved and left. | |
| “Or had the North Wind woke from sleep, | |
| As with our dark sails all outspread, | |
| Across the southern wave we fled,— | 65 |
| Down in the great sea’s twilight deep, | |
| Some silent grot had been our bed, | |
| Where many a long-haired Nereid, | |
| With ocean-flowers all garlanded, | |
| Had knelt by our low couch to weep: | 70 |
| But softly o’er the brine the breeze did creep, | |
| Bearing us all too gently on our way; | |
| While I of strong Poseidon prayed | |
| To guard the life I mourn to-day! | |
| |
| “Ye memories of days gone by | 75 |
| Ere clouds of woe began to lower, | |
| When life stretched all so bright before, | |
| And love was warm and hope was high; | |
| Of moonlight nights beside the shore, | |
| When by the infinite heaven he swore, | 80 |
| And every star that gemmed it o’er, | |
| That love like his could never die: | |
| Unbidden guests of mine adversity! | |
| Dead hopes and haunting memories of the past, | |
| That cling about my heart forevermore, | 85 |
| O, to forget you all, and die and be at rest! | |
| |
| “For rest alone awaiteth me | |
| Beyond death’s portal dark and grim, | |
| Where Nature whispers that I soon shall be; | |
| For robes of rest I cannot see | 90 |
| Seem folding round each languid limb; | |
| My weary eyes are waxing dim, | |
| Scarce may I hear the evening hymn | |
| The birds are chanting joyously:— | |
| But O, for one more glimpse of thee, | 95 |
| Theseus! before mine eyelids sink for aye,— | |
| Or of thy sail beneath the westering day, | |
| O’er the horizon’s utmost rim, | |
| Looming far away!” | |
| |
| Darkness o’er land and sea resumed her sway; | 100 |
| The fair moon rose, dispensing silvery light; | |
| And softly fell the tears of mother Night | |
| O’er the outwearied watcher where she lay, | |
| Till in the orient dawned again the Day, | |
| And all for joy o’er his triumphant birth | 105 |
| Arose the hymnéd praises of the Earth: | |
| The River murmured, rolling on his way; | |
| The wind-swept forest sighed, and carols gay | |
| The wild bird lilted from the dewy brake,— | |
| But Ariadne sleeps, and nevermore shall wake! | 110 |
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