4
CLEOBIS AND BITON.
Crocus and hyacinth blossomed; the nightingale sang on the thorn;
And with music like Hebe's laughter the hill-brooks leapt to the main.
And with music like Hebe's laughter the hill-brooks leapt to the main.
Argos its gates had opened, and matrons and maids and men
Hastened to Hera's temple on the slope of the terraced hill;
But the strong white oxen were ploughing far over the reedy fen,
And I, her priestess and lover, tarried impatient still,—
For only the strong white oxen, by meadow and stream and glen
Could draw my chariot thither, secure from the lightest ill.
Hastened to Hera's temple on the slope of the terraced hill;
But the strong white oxen were ploughing far over the reedy fen,
And I, her priestess and lover, tarried impatient still,—
For only the strong white oxen, by meadow and stream and glen
Could draw my chariot thither, secure from the lightest ill.
Chaplet and bough were fading; eager the maids for the race;
But the toiling oxen came not, and the sun went up the sky.
What should I answer the Goddess? How could I sue for grace
If her rites should fail, or the garlands and gifts unoffered lie?
And my heart was heavy within me,—when, straight to the chariot's place,
Cleobis tall, and Biton, strode with a joyful cry!
But the toiling oxen came not, and the sun went up the sky.
What should I answer the Goddess? How could I sue for grace
If her rites should fail, or the garlands and gifts unoffered lie?
And my heart was heavy within me,—when, straight to the chariot's place,
Cleobis tall, and Biton, strode with a joyful cry!
