Such fruit among the heavy roses falls, Such fruit my watchful damsels carefully

am not hard to those who love me

well;

Store up within the best loved of my walls,

ist to what I a second time will tell, nd thou mayest hear perchance, and

live to save

he cruel maiden from a loveless grave.

Ancient Damascus, where the lover calls Above my unseen head, and faint and

light

The rose-leaves flutter round me in the night.

66

• And note, that these are not alone most fair

With heavenly gold, but longing strange they bring

Unto the hearts of men, who will not

care

Beholding these, for any once-loved thing Till round the shining sides their fingers cling.

And thou shalt see thy well-girt swiftfoot maid

By sight of these amidst her glory stayed.

And when she turns aside make on арасе,

And if again she heads thee in the race Spare not the other two to cast aside If she not long enough behind will bide. "Farewell, and when has come the happy time

That she Diana's raiment must unbind And all the world seems blessed with Saturn's clime,

And thou with eager arms about her twined

Beholdest first her gray eyes growing kind,

Surely, O trembler, thou shalt scarcely then

Forget the Helper of unhappy men." Milanion raised his head at this last

word

For now so soft and kind she seemed to be

No longer of her Godhead was he feared; Too late he looked; for nothing could

he see

But the white image glimmering doubtfully

Thou know'st her not, O rustling tree,
What dost thou then to shadow me,
Whose shade her breast did never see?
O flowers, in vain ye bow adown!
Ye have not felt her odorous gown
Brush past your heads my lips to meet.

Flow on, great river-thou mayst deem
That far away, a summer stream,
Thou sawest her limbs amidst thee gleam
And kissed her foot, and kissed her knee,
Yet get thee swift unto the sea!
With nought of true thou wilt me greet.

And thou that men call by my name,
O helpless one, hast thou no shame
That thou must even look the same,
As while agone, as while agone,
When thou and she were left alone,
And hands, and lips, and tears did meet?

Grow weak and pine, lie down to die,
O body in thy misery,

Because short time and sweet goes by;