Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/272

POEMS OF GREECE Unravelling the labor of the day,

And warded off the fate, till came that time

When my lost sea-king thundered in his halls,

And with long arrows clove the suitors' hearts.

So constant was I! now not thirty moons

Go by, and thou forgettest all. Alas!

What profit is there any more in love?

What thankless sequel hath a woman's faith!

Yet if thou wilt,—in these thy golden years,

Safe-housed in royalty, like a god revered

By all the people,—if thou yearnest yet

Once more to dare the deep and Neptune's hate,

I will not linger in a widowed age;

I will not lose Ulysses, hardly found

After long vigils; but will cleave about

Thy neck, with more than woman's prayers and tears,

Until thou take me with thee. As I left

My sire, I leave my son, to follow where

Ulysses goeth, dearer for the strength

Of that great heart which ever drives him on

To large experience of newer toils!

Trust me, I will not any hindrance prove,

But, like Athenè's helm, a guiding star,

A glory and a comfort! O, be sure

My heart shall take its lesson from thine own!

My voice shall cheer the mariners at their oars

In the night watches; it shall warble songs,

Whose music shall outvie the luring airs

Of Nereïd or Siren. If we find

Those isles thou namest, where the golden fount

Gives youth to all who taste it, we will drink

Deep draughts, until the furrows leave thy brow,

And I shall walk in beauty, as when first

I saw thee from afar in Sparta's groves.

But if Charybdis seize our keel, or swift 242