Page:Eight Harvard Poets.djvu/104

 A RENAISSANCE PICTURE

ALM little figure, ivy-crowned, How long beneath the barren tree Where this pale, martyred god has found Surcease from his long agony, You watch with an untroubled gaze Life move on its accustomed ways!

Within your childish heart there dwells No sorrow that uprising dims Your eye, whence not a teardrop wells For pity of those writhen limbs, Or for the travail of a race Consummate in one lifeless face.

Though tinkling caravans go by Forever over twilight sands, With myrrh and cassia laden high For other shrines in other lands, No weight of grief thereat you know, But softly on your pan-pipes blow.

From what dim mountain have you strayed, Where, ringed by the Hellenic seas, You dwelt in an untrodden glade 93