THE DEPARTURE OF PROSERPINE
191
From Ægean shores across her rocky isles,
Making the bells of Babylon to ring
Over the wiles
That lifted me from darkness to the Spring?
And the King
Seeing his wine in blossom on the tree
Danced with the queen a merry roundelay,
And all the blue circumference of the day
Was loud with flying song.——
—But let me pass along:
What brooks it the unfree to thus delay?
No secret turning leads from the gods' way.
