Page:Atalanta in Calydon - a tragedy (IA atalantaincalydo00swinrich).pdf/86

 Look fair, O gods, and favourable; for we Praise you with no false heart or flattering mouth, Being merciful, but with pure souls and prayer.

Thou hast prayed well; for whoso fears not these, But once being prosperous waxes huge of heart, Him shall some new thing unaware destroy.

O that I now, I too were By deep wells and water-floods, Streams of ancient hills, and where All the wan green places bear Blossoms cleaving to the sod, Fruitless fruit, and grasses fair, Or such darkest ivy-buds As divide thy yellow hair, Bacchus, and their leaves that nod Round thy fawnskin brush the bare Snow-soft shoulders of a god; There the year is sweet, and there Earth is full of secret springs, And the fervent rose-cheeked hours, Those that marry dawn and noon, There are sunless, there look pale In dim leaves and hidden air,