Page:Once a Week June to Dec 1863.pdf/164

154 But when day dawn’d and he awoke, That rainbow-dream had pass’d for ever— The nymph had turn’d to stone again, To wake to life and beauty—never. With a deep sigh he kiss’d the lips Of that sweet nymph, once more reposing; Then seized his shaping-steel and clay To toil till life’s long day was closing.

He wept not, but, in patience strong, Thought of the blissful re-uniting, As soldiers do of rest and sleep After a long day’s toilsome fighting; And in his art content he toil’d To deck that fane of Aphroditè, And by him, as he laboured, stood His statue of the gentle Clytè.