Come, shell divine, be vocal now for me
As when the Hebrus river and the sea
To Lesbos bore, on waves harmonious
The head and golden lyre of Orpheus
Calliope, queen of the tuneful throng
Descend and be the Muse of melic song;
For through my frame life's tides renewing bring
The glad vein-warming vigor of the spring
The skies that dome the earth with far blue fire
Make the wide land one temple of desire;—
Just now across my cheek I felt a God
In the enraptured breeze, pass zephyr-shod
Was that Pan's flute, O Atthis, that we heard
Or the soft love-note of a woodland bird?
That flame a scarlet wing that skimmed the stream
Or the red flash of our impassioned dream?
Ah, soon again we two shall gather fair
Garlands of dill and rose to deck our bare
White arms that cling, white breast that burns to breast
When the long night of love shall banish rest
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