Page:Three Plays Sunderland Hills.pdf/190

Rh The denizens of the dear elder world, Oread, Centaur, Nereid, and Faun, Who wait for me in my far island home.

Yet even here they are not wholly dead, In gallant horseman and a perfect horse The once-dissever'd Centaur lives again, For heart-whole heady rapture of the chase, The forest-haunting lad is half a Faun, Spoiling the vineyard, harrying the hive, The wine-warm'd peasant a Silenus seems. The girl who meets her lover in the woods, Who bathes at noontide in the forest pool Is almost Nymph.

Aye, still Eternal Youth As Dionysos cries upon the hills Holloaing up the hunt, each April-tide