Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/230

192 Iacchus' darling,

Or some youth beloved of Pan,

Of Pan and the nymphs;

That he sits, bending downward

His white, delicate neck

To the ivy-wreathed marge

Of thy cup; the bright, glancing vine-leaves

That crown his hair,

Falling forward, mingling

With the dark ivy-plants;

His fawn-skin, half untied,

Smeared with red wine-stains? Who is he,

That he sits, overweighed

By fumes of wine and sleep,

So late, in thy portico?

What youth, goddess,—what guest

Of gods or mortals?

CIRCE.

Hist! he wakes!

I lured him not hither, Ulysses.

Nay, ask him!

THE YOUTH.

Who speaks? Ah! who comes forth

To thy side, goddess, from within?

How shall I name him,—

This spare, dark-featured,

Quick-eyed stranger?

Ah! and I see too

His sailor's bonnet,

His short coat, travel-tarnished,

With one arm bare!—

Art thou not he, whom fame