Page:Atalanta in Calydon - a tragedy (IA atalantaincalydo00swinrich).pdf/127

 For the dead man no home is; Ah, better to be What the flower of the foam is In fields of the sea, That the sea-waves might be as my raiment, the gulf-stream a garment for me.

Who shall seek thee and bring And restore thee thy day, When the dove dipt her wing And the oars won their way Where the narrowing Symplegades whitened the straits of Propontis with spray?

Will ye crown me my tomb Or exalt me my name, Now my spirits consume, Now my flesh is a flame? Let the sea slake it once, and men speak of me sleeping to praise me or shame.