ARION.
249
He looked upon his native shore,
His voyage, his perilous voyage is o'er.
There stood a temple by the sea,
Raised to its queen, Amphitrite:
Arion entered, and kneeling there
He saw a girl, like spring-day fair,
Feeding with incense the sacred flame,
And he heard her hymn, and it breathed his name.
Oh, Love! a whole life is not worth this bliss—
Eglæ has met her Arion's kiss!—
They raised an altar upon the sea-shore,
And every spring they covered it o'er
With fruits of the wood and flowers of the field,
And the richest perfumes that the East could yield;
And as the waves rolled, they knelt by the side,
And poured their hymn to the Queen of the Tide.
