Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/350

312 Be to foment old memories of wrath.

Pray, as thou pour'st libations on this tomb,

To be deliver'd from thy foster'd hate,

Unjust suspicion, and erroneous fear.

THE CHORUS.

Draw, draw near to the tomb!

Lay honey-cakes on its marge,

Pour the libation of milk,

Deck it with garlands of flowers.

Tears fall thickly the while!

Behold, O King from the dark

House of the grave, what we do.

O Arcadian hills,

Send us the Youth whom ye hide,

Girt with his coat for the chase,

With the low broad hat of the tann'd

Hunter o'ershadowing his brow;

Grasping firm, in his hand

Advanced, two javelins, not now

Dangerous alone to the deer!

MEROPE.

What shall I bear, O lost

Husband and King, to thy grave?—

Pure libations, and fresh

Flowers? But thou, in the gloom,

Discontented, perhaps,

Demandest vengeance, not grief?

Sternly requirest a man,

Light to spring up to thy house?