Now the winds of old that filled her sails with triumph, when the fleet

Bound for death from Asia fled before them stricken,

wake to greet

Ships full-winged again for freedom toward the sacred shores of Crete.

There was God born man, the song that spake of old time said: and there

Man, made even as God by trust that shows him nought too dire to dare,

Now may light again the beacon lit when those we worship were.

Sharp the concert wrought of discord shrills the tune of shame and death,

Turk by Christian fenced and fostered, Mecca backed by Nazareth:

All the powerless powers, tongue-valiant, breathe but greed's or terror's breath.

Though the tide that feels the west wind lift it wave by widening wave

Wax not yet to height and fullness of the storm that smites to save,

None shall bid the flood back seaward till no bar be

left to brave.

DELPHIC HYMN TO APOLLO

(B.C. 280)

DONE INTO ENGLISH

I

THEE, the son of God most high, Famed for harping song, will I Proclaim, and the deathless oracular word From the snow-topped rock that we gaze on heard, Counsels of thy glorious giving

Manifest for all men living,

How thou madest the tripod of prophecy thine
Which the wrath of the dragon kept guard on, a shrine
Voiceless till thy shafts could smite

All his live coiled glittering might.

II

Ye that hold of right alone

All deep woods on Helicon,

Fair daughters of thunder-girt God, with your bright
White arms uplift as to lighten the light,
Come to chant your brother's praise,
Gold-haired Phœbus, loud in lays,

Even his, who afar up the twin-topped seat
Of the rock Parnassian whereon we meet

Risen with glorious Delphic maids
Seeks the soft spring-sweetened shades
Castalian, fain of the Delphian peak
Prophetic, sublime as the feet that seek.
Glorious Athens, highest of state,

Come, with praise and prayer elate,
O thou that art queen of the plain unscarred
That the warrior Tritonid hath alway in guard,
Where on many a sacred shrine

Young bulls' thigh-bones burn and shine
As the god that is fire overtakes them, and fast
The smoke of Arabia to heavenward is cast,
Scattering wide its balm and shrill

Now with nimble notes that thrill

The flute strikes up for the song, and the harp of gold Strikes up to the song sweet answer: and all behold, All, aswarm as bees, give ear,

Who by birth hold Athens dear.

A NEW CENTURY

AN age too great for thought of ours to scan,
A wave upon the sleepless sea of time

That sinks and sleeps for ever, ere the chime
Pass that salutes with blessing, not with ban,
The dark year dead, the bright year born for man,
Dies: all its days that watched man cower and climb,
Frail as the foam, and as the sun sublime,

Sleep sound as they that slept ere these began.

Our mother earth, whose ages none may tell,

Puts on no change: time bids not her wax pale Or kindle, quenched or quickened, when the knell Sounds, and we cry across the veering gale Farewell-and midnight answers us, Farewell; Hail-and the heaven of morning answers, Hail.

AN EVENING AT VICHY

SEPTEMBER 1896

WRITTEN ON THE NEWS OF THE DEATH OF LORD LEIGHTON

A LIGHT has passed that never shall pass away,
A sun has set whose rays are unquelled of night.
The loyal grace, the courtesy bright as day,

The strong sweet radiant spirit of life and light That shone and smiled and lightened on all men's sight,

The kindly life whose tune was the tune of May, For us now dark, for love and for fame is bright.

Nay, not for us that live as the fen-fires live,

As stars that shoot and shudder with life and die, Can death make dark that lustre of life, or give

The grievous gift of trust in oblivion's lie.

Days dear and far death touches, and draws them nigh,

And bids the grief that broods on their graves forgive The day that seems to mock them as clouds that fly.

If life be life more faithful than shines on sleep When dreams take wing and lighten and fade like flame,

Then haply death may be not a death so deep