Page:Atalanta in Calydon - a tragedy (IA atalantaincalydo00swinrich).pdf/128

 Turn back now, turn thee, As who turns him to wake; Though the life in thee burn thee, Couldst thou bathe it and slake Where the sea-ridge of Helle hangs heavier, and east upon west waters break?

Would the winds blow me back Or the waves hurl me home? Ah, to touch in the track Where the pine learnt to roam Cold girdles and crowns of the sea-gods, cool blossoms of water and foam!

The gods may release That they made fast; Thy soul shall have ease In thy limbs at the last; But what shall they give thee for life, sweet life that is overpast?