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BALAUSTION'S ADVENTURE.
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O' the garland on those temples, tenderestDisposure of each arm along its side,Came putting out what warmth i' the world was left.Then, as it happens at a sacrificeWhen, drop by drop, some lustral bath is brimmed:Into the thin and clear and cold, at onceThey slaughter a whole wine-skin; Bacchos' bloodSets the white water all a-flame: even so,Sudden into the midst of sorrow, leaptAlong with the gay cheer of that great voice,Hope, joy, salvation: Herakles was here!Himself, o' the threshold, sent his voice on firstTo herald all that human and divineI' the weary happy face of him,—half GodHalf man, which made the god-part God the more.
"Hosts mine," he broke upon the sorrow with,"Inhabitants of this Pheraian soil,
